


the compound

by blackberrybee



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Betty Cooper Loves Jughead Jones, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Holidays, Hurt Betty Cooper, Hurt Jughead Jones, Hurt/Comfort, Jughead Jones Loves Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Mentioned FP Jones II, Nice Alice Cooper (Archie Comics), Older Jughead Jones, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Betty Cooper, POV Jughead Jones, Protective Jughead Jones, School Trip, Sexual Tension, Skinny Dipping, Slow Burn, Smoking, Smut, Sneaking Around, SweetBee, Thanksgiving, Underage Drinking, Writer Jughead Jones, Younger Betty Cooper, bed sharing, bughead - Freeform, bughead fanfic - Freeform, choni, creative writing, film school, smutty smut smut, sweetvee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23455663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberrybee/pseuds/blackberrybee
Summary: The last person Betty expected to hear from on her sixteenth birthday was Jughead Jones. She hadn’t heard from him since she was six and he was nine and his mom had an affair with her uncle, tearing both of their families apart.Ten years, a birthday message and secret film festival later, Betty and Jughead have created their own long-distance friendship separate from their parents. Betty, who still lives on the island, finds herself seeking out Jughead more and more as the year passes, and unknowingly, he seeks her out just as much.So a drunken question, fueled by two bottles of wine, sends Jughead back to the compound on the island for Thanksgiving, trapping him, Betty and their feelings, on a small farm for a week.What could go wrong?
Relationships: Alice Cooper/Hal Cooper, Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper, Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper & Reggie Mantle, Betty Cooper & Sweet Pea, Betty Cooper/Dilton Doiley, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Reggie Mantle, Cheryl Blossom/Toni Topaz, Jughead Jones & Sabrina Spellman, Veronica Lodge/Sweet Pea
Comments: 82
Kudos: 171
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	1. ten years

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!
> 
> If you are just stumbling upon this fic, welcome! If you're following along from the first chapter, welcome! 
> 
> I am currently in quarantine and social distancing, and working on a whole other story (please check it out!) but this one jumped at me and needed to be written.
> 
> I was inspired to write this by a few real life events, and have been for the past few years, applying Riverdale characters to real life scenarios.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this first chapter! It's the prologue. I'll be updating every Thursday night/Friday very early morning!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, just the story. In addition, this fic is un-beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

_prologue_

Betty had always known Jughead. Their moms had been friends when they were teenagers, and there were baby pictures of the two of them floating around in some hatbox in the attic. Gladys, Jughead’s mom, dated Betty’s uncle when they were young. Where Betty’s mom grew up on the island, Gladys and her family would only come in the summer and were all around the same age and stayed in the same part of town, which is how they knew each other. 

Growing up, Betty and Jughead saw a lot of each other since their parents stayed friends. They would spend their summers on the beach, throwing sand at each other and swimming until their lips were blue and their arms were heavy. They would leave the beach, covered in salt and seaweed and go back to the compound to eat way too much food and then pretend to go to sleep, only to sneak out and look at the stars while laying flat on their backs in Betty’s outdoor shower. 

It was their summer routine.

For the first six years of Betty’s life, she waited for June 10th, the day that Jughead would come, like clockwork. He and his mom would roll into the compound’s driveway and before the car had fully come to a stop, Jughead would be out of the car, flinging himself at Betty and telling her about all of the things he saw on his drive up from the city.

The last summer Betty saw Jughead, she was six years old, and he was nine. She remembered it vividly, as if it only happened the other day. Her uncle Bryan was there with them that summer. He was staying in one of the small bunk rooms off of the main farmhouse like Betty did, while Jughead and his mom lived in the little house a little ways away.

Betty remembered it being weird that her Uncle Bryan spent so much time at the little house, and how sometimes she’d hear him leaving his outside bunk room late at night and she’d peek out from under her covers and saw him walking over to the little house. She remembered not saying anything to anyone because she didn’t want to get in trouble. She remembered looking at Gladys funny at the dinner table as she only paid attention to her Uncle Bryan, even though Jughead was right there, trying to show her his drawings or something he found exploring that day.

She remembered wishing she had said something.

Had she known that the early August morning that Jughead left was going to be the last time she saw him, she would have been less shy to give him a hug, tell him that she liked spending so much time with him, and that the September ocean was lonely without him.

But she didn’t know. So there was nothing to say. 

Betty found out much later that the reason they never saw Gladys or Jughead again was because Gladys had an affair with her uncle, not just that summer, but until the next spring. Gladys and Bryan had decided to tell their partners about the affair and run away together, but only Gladys left, and Bryan stayed, shattering her heart.

Maybe the compound and Alice and Betty reminded Gladys too much of what she couldn’t have, but Betty thought it was unfair that she didn’t get to talk to Jughead anymore. By the time she was nine, she stopped looking out the window for his mom’s car to pull up each June. By the time she was twelve, she realized that he was a sophomore in high school and that he probably didn’t remember her. And by the time she was fifteen, she had decided to forget about him altogether.

That is until he sent her a generic and Facebook generated birthday message on her sixteenth birthday in February. She didn't respond for a few days, finding her options for response to be somewhere between completely ignorant to his existence and overjoyed at the idea that he reached out to her first, even if it was ten years later and prompted only by a date and silly algorithm. 

She left the message unopened and tended to other problems, such as the fact that she was now the only sophomore who hadn’t lost their virginity, and that her best friend was mad at her, and in that current moment, that her cousin was forcing her off her phone and towards the cake to blow out the candles.

Betty decided to blame her lack of response on Cheryl and her uncharacteristic of forgetfulness due to a joint and a stolen bottle of red wine. 

When she finally did respond with a simple, “thanks!” Jughead responded immediately with:

 **Jughead Jones— 6:52pm:** how are you?

Betty didn’t know what to do or think, seeing as the last time they interacted was ten years ago and she had no real idea of who he was or why he was messaging her. She didn’t know why she wanted to be standoffish and aloof, but it was Jughead, and they may not have spoken for a while, but he knew her.

 **Betty Cooper— 7:09pm:** hi jug! i’m good, how are you?

Who knew a happy birthday message would bring two people back together after a decade. 

They continued to message each other on Facebook for the next six months, arguing about and sharing writing, Jughead complaining about relationship problems (which made Betty’s stomach pull in a way she didn’t appreciate), and Betty complaining about classwork and fast tracking through high school. 

She found out that he went to Georgetown University in Washington DC., and that he was double majoring in film and creative writing. When she asked him “why film?” he just sent back a capital letter “X” and it wasn’t spoken about again. She learned that after everything happened with her uncle, that his mom moved to Hawaii and that Jughead lived primarily with his dad in New York City when he wasn’t in school. 

**Betty Cooper— 11:17pm, May 26th, 2015:** wait your mom moved to Hawaii after everything happened? is that why we never heard from her?

 **Jughead Jones— 11:19pm, May 26th, 2015:** i mean maybe? she’s the type to just up and disappear. she literally left me with my dad who i hadn’t seen or spoken to in like four years and moved thousands of miles away. 

**Jughead Jones— 11:24pm, May 26th, 2015:** so who knows with her.

Jughead learned that Betty was having insane boy problems. She handled losing her virginity by asking this kid Dilton to sneak into her room on the compound and have sex with her. But then he left at 2am right after Betty fell asleep and then she learned that he got back together with his girlfriend who went to another school. Betty knew that Jughead thought this was hilarious, and commented on how absolutely easy it would be to sneak in and out of the bunk rooms. She continuously asked for advice on boys and he tried not to give it but couldn’t help it. 

Betty told Jughead all about growing up on the island in the winter, and how her whole high school had around fifty kids in it. Jughead thought _this_ was the craziest thing he’d ever heard, because his graduating high school class had just under eight-hundred students in it, and it was considered a very small class for his school.

As the summer drew nearer, Betty asked Jughead if he would ever consider coming back to Riverdale and staying with her on the compound. His response was a simple, two word, “never girl,” and Betty dropped it, realizing that her friendship with Jughead was destined to be entirely digital, and though she didn’t want to, she decided she needed to get used to it.

But in the middle of summer 2015, Betty saw an ad on Facebook for a film festival in New York City. She knew from previous conversations that Jughead lived in the city when he wasn’t at school, and that he was majoring in film. She was determined to see him again, and if he wasn’t going to come to her, she was going to go to him. She shared the post with him and asked, “thoughts?” 

She didn’t receive a response from him, and resigned to the fact that he just didn’t want to see her. Betty was cooking dinner with her mom when her phone pinged with a message from Jughead that said, “check your email.” Trying to be nonchalant about it so as to not raise any suspicion or cause her mom to ask questions, Betty opened the app. There was a “Thank You For Your Purchase,” email in her inbox with a smiley face as the body of the text. There were two tickets, one for “Elizabeth Cooper” and one for “Forsythe Pendleton Jones III.”

Betty, completely stunned, quickly excused herself from cooking so she could head into her room and process everything. When the door was shut, she took a moment to inhale deeply before jumping around her room screaming, thankful that no one could hear. 

She was going to see Jughead again, and soon.

 **Betty Cooper— 7:14pm:** you son of a bitch, Jughead Jones! how am I going to repay you for this?

 **Jughead Jones— 7:36pm:** you love it. and me. see you in a couple months, betts. can’t wait!

Betty was overjoyed for the next three months. Jughead went MIA at one point and texted her a crazy long text about how his mom made him go on a Caribbean cruise and made him turn off his phone for two weeks when he got back. Now, with a much more comprehensive understanding of who Gladys was as a person, Betty laughed it off, trying once again to ignore the butterflies that came each time he would text her first.

When Jughead asked Betty where she was staying in the city, she lied and told him she got an AirBnB. Which in fact, she did not, but she wasn’t going to ask him if she could crash on his couch, even though she really wanted to.

 **Jughead Jones— 2:15am** ugh. i’m jealous. i’m not technically supposed to be in the city at that time. my dad is moving me into school on friday night and then i’m taking a $10 chinatown bus back right after he leaves. i have no clue where i’m going to crash.

Betty didn’t know where the idea came from, but all of a sudden she was typing;

 **Betty Cooper— 2:21am** do you want to stay in the AirBnB with me? 

She was expecting a “no that’s okay, I’ll find a friend’s house to crash at, but thanks for asking,” and not a;

 **Jughead Jones— 2:34am** that would be fucking fantastic, betts.

And that was how Betty figured out where to stay in New York, but had no idea how to get there.

She had two options: ask for her mom’s permission, or, go without permission and hope she never found out. 

She chose foregoing permission, instead enlisting the two sneakiest girls she knew: her best friend Veronica, and her cousin, Cheryl Blossom.

To say their little group was odd would be an understatement. Veronica, an heiress of one of the richest families to grace New York, walked around in pearls and high heels and carried Chanel bags un-ironically. Her first day at Riverdale High, she walked right up to Betty and Cheryl and joined their conversation with absolutely no understanding of what was going on. 

But in a high school with under fifty kids, you had to make due with what you had. 

Veronica jumped in like she had been friends with Cheryl and Betty for years, and while Betty initially thought she was a bit stuck up, she learned to love their “Park Ave Princess” in under a week. 

Where Veronica was the raven haired rich girl in the black designer clothes, Cheryl was the heiress to an entire commercial fishing and boating industry as soon as her father died. Her cherry red lips, fiery hair and porcelain skin made her the most ethereal looking princess-goth-Barbie doll that Betty had ever seen. Had she not been Cheryl’s cousin (on her dad’s side), she would have run screaming from her years ago. The three of them made an unlikely trio, but stuck together constantly, like glue.

So in reality, the plan of sneaking away and not telling her mom where she was all weekend was simple. It was the most basic lie there was, just a lie by omission. Rather than try to convince her mom that she was staying at Veronica’s in Riverdale over the weekend, she convinced her mom that she, Veronica, _and_ Cheryl were going into the city for a girls weekend to shop and decompress before junior year.

“I’ll just plan to go back into the city that weekend! We can tell your mom that you’re coming with us!” Veronica said over FaceTime that night. “She doesn’t need to know.”

“But what if she does find out?” Betty asked, biting her fingernails. She didn’t want her mom to get mad at her, but she also didn’t know if she could give up this opportunity to see Jughead, knowing that it may be the only time she got to.

“Betty, stop biting your nails,” Cheryl snapped. “It’s okay. I’ll slay the Aunt Alice dragon and you just worry about what you’re gonna wear to see our dear Juggie again.”

Cheryl knew Jughead growing up too, obviously, but they didn’t have the same relationship that Betty and he did. Where they spent all of their time on the beach and throwing sand at each other, Cheryl spent her time at the pool at her parent’s house in the richest town on the island. 

“Stop calling him that,” Betty grumbled while pulling her nails out of her mouth. “But fine, Cher. You’re in charge of handling my mom and getting permission to go. I don’t really care how you do it, just, do it.

Much to Betty’s surprise, her mom agreed to let her go. Though, thinking back on it, she shouldn’t have been all that shocked. Betty’s mom thought that Cheryl shit rainbow’s and butterflies so the idea of her mother caving to Cheryl’s whim wasn’t too far off. 

Three months later Betty was opening the door of the AirBnb and there standing on the steps, more beautiful than she could have ever imagined was Jughead Jones, who wrapped his arms around her for the first time in ten years, and she felt like she was home.

* * *

**July 2016**

“Guess what I just did?” Jughead asked Betty. She was holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear and whisking together eggs in a bowl.

“I don’t know, Jug. Watched a cool movie?”

“No. Well, yes. But that’s not what I’m excited about,” he said back passively.

“Oh? This thing you did excites you?”

“And scares the fucking shit out of me,” he exhaled into the receiver.

“Jug, can you just tell me? I am doing far too many things to try and guess what you’ve done that both excites and terrifies you,” she said with frustration. This was a thing he’d do. He’d call her when she was in the middle of something, and since she was absolutely powerless to him, she’d answer, regardless of how busy she was.

Well, unless she was with Archie. 

If that was the case she would let the call roll to voicemail and text him a little while later telling him that she was studying and had her phone off. She didn’t know why she chose to lie to him, but figured saying, “hey my abusive and manipulative boyfriend doesn’t like that I still talk to you. So I don’t answer when you call.” 

Jughead knew she had a boyfriend, and based on the few conversations that she would allow to happen concerning Archie, he knew that Archie Andrews was a piece of fucking shit.

Archie didn’t start out that bad, in fact, he was actually the shy and reserved one of their relationship when it began. But as it progressed, the dangerous and abusive side of him came out. She didn’t know when he took control over her life, but he did. He stopped letting her see her friends, stopped letting her wear and eat certain things, and when he found out about Jughead, he tried to stop her from talking to him.

It was only when he hit her for the first time that she realized things had gotten bad. When it happened, he immediately broke down into sobs and Betty _comforted_ him. He claimed that it was an accident and Betty, being the person she was, thought that he was being honest.

But it just got worse from there.

“Betts,” he whined. Jughead also knew that he could get whatever he wanted if he just whined and called her “Betts.”

“Okay, Jug!” She half yelled. “You applied for film school?”

“No! Though that would _totally_ flip me out. Good guess. I bought a ticket!”

“Okay?” Betty said with very little enthusiasm. There was no reason for him to be scared and excited about buying a ticket to something, unless it wasn’t to something, but to somewhere.

“Jughead?” Betty asked slowly. She could hear his excited breathing over the phone an she put the whisk down on the counter, moving her phone from her shoulder to her other hand. “What kind of ticket?”

He waited a beat before replying in a nonchalant tone, “a boat ticket.”

Betty felt her body start to buzz with undeniable excitement. She chose her next question very carefully.

“A boat ticket, to where?”

“The island, of course.” He said it so casually that Betty had to stop and ask herself if she really heard it correctly.

“Hmm,” she played along, not showing any excitement whatsoever even though she was visibly vibrating, “when?”

“August,” he said just as flatly, but she could hear the hint at a smile in his voice. They had been talking long enough for her to know his moods and tones through the tone of his voice. He couldn’t hide anything from her, it was written all over his words the moment they left his mouth.

“Interesting,” she mused. “And where will you be staying?”

And that’s when Jughead uttered the three best words that Betty had ever heard in her life.

“The compound, obviously.”

Betty had to try and not drop her phone as she screamed into the receiver. She was dancing all over the kitchen, laughing like crazy and making rapid fire plans, not even giving him a chance to get a word in edgewise. 

He mom walked upstairs into the kitchen and asked, “what the hell are you screaming about?”

“Jughead’s coming, Mom!”

Alice had a dumbstruck look on her face and Betty felt her dance moves slowing down until she stood stark still, waiting for the other shoe to drop and her mom to veto the whole plan, and Betty’s whole happy mood.

“Well of course he is, honey. He called me about it last week.” With that Alice turned on her heel and walked out of the room, leaving Betty standing there, mouth open in shock and listening to Jughead laugh manically on the other line.

“You snake! You snake, you rattlesnake! You’ve known about this and had it planned for a week? You told my mom before you told me?”

“I needed to find the right time to tell you! I kept waiting for you to answer the phone in a bad mood and you hadn’t until today. I wasn’t expecting your mom to blow my cover that fast though.”

“When?” Betty wasn’t even worried about being mad at him just yet. She would get there. But for now? For now she was happier than she had been in months, because not only was Jughead coming, but he was coming in less than two months.

“August 2nd.”

“And you’re driving?”

“I am.”

“What time is your reservation? I’ll make sure to meet you so you can follow me back.”

“Betty it may have been eleven years, but I know how to get to the compound.”

“Jug,” she breathed exasperated, “can you just let me meet you? Please?”

He laughed and Betty smiled at the beautiful sound. He finally agreed to let her meet him at the boat on August 2nd at 2:30pm. Not that Betty was counting.

_Jughead is coming!_

Archie was not as excited for Jughead’s visit as Betty was, especially at the fact that he would be staying at her house.

“But Arch,” Betty pleaded. They were sitting at the beach eating takeout when she told him that Jughead was coming. It was a week after she had found out, and Betty hadn’t seen Archie since then. It wasn’t something she wanted to get into over text or over the phone, because Archie was known to have a temper, and oddly enough, it was easier to handle his temper in person than over the phone.

“He’s staying with me. He’s always stayed with us.”

“It’s been eleven years, Betty. Time for a new tradition,” he said coldly. The way he was looking at her made her flinch back in preparation. She wanted to tell Archie that Jughead wasn’t going to stay with them and ask for his forgiveness.

“No,” Betty said, standing up. She grabbed her leftover trash and walked away. She thought she had made it back to her car without incident when she was slammed into from behind and against the drivers side door. 

“No?” Archie growled into her ear. He had gotten violent before, but never this aggressively, and never this publicly. “You don’t say no to me, Elizabeth.”

Betty felt tears run down her face as he crushed her harder against the door. She felt the handle digging into her hip and his had was wrapped so tight around her arm that she thought it would break. 

“Take it up with Alice,” Betty cried out. She knew that the only person who scared Archie more than her father was her mother. Her mother _hated_ Archie, with a burning, fiery rage. Archie waited a minute before pushing himself off of her, which simultaneously shoved her harder against her car.

“Fine. But I am going to be with you the entire time. And you won’t do anything without my permission.” He turned around walked back to his car, and Betty was grateful that they drove separately because she didn’t think she could stomach being in the car with him for the drive home. 

She got in turned on her car and rolled down her windows and let the ocean breeze dance across her face. The sun was setting and she plugged her phone into the AUX and turned on the playlist that Jughead had just sent her called “the compound; 2016.” The first song that played was “She” by Tyler the Creator and Frank Ocean and Betty let out a sharp laugh. He knew her on a cellular level, and she guessed, she kew him like that too.

She shook off what happened with Archie as “one of those days” and drove home, letting her arm dangle out of the window as she inhaled the salty air rushing past. When she got home she grabbed a book and sat on the screened in back porch and read until she was straining her eyes to see. She walked into the house to use the bathroom before going out to the outdoor shower and turning it on.

Using the little bit of light left in the sky she showered off the day and Archie’s antics to the sounds of GoldLinks, “Sober Thoughts,” which she found incredibly ironic and broke down crying. She was sobbing and singing into the scalding hot water, letting the vast sounds of the darkness at the compound swallow her words whole. She hiccuped around the words and continued to break down until she couldn’t physically hold herself up any more.

She sat down on the wet wood of the outdoor shower’s floor and wrapped her arms around her knees, letting her head rest on them. She contemplated laying down flat on her back and looking for stars like she used to do with Jughead when they were kids. It was so simple then. She reminisced about when things were so simple between her and Archie, before she wasn’t worried about what he could do to her if she left. 

The idea of leaving caused a new wave of sobs to rip through her body and she tried to still her breathing before it tore her apart. When she finally regained control over her breaths she stood up, deciding that the only way to do this was methodically and meticulously. 

She was going to leave him, she just needed time.

On August 1st, Betty told Archie that Jughead was arriving to the island late and that she would wait up for him and that they would go to sleep in their separate bedrooms, and the next morning Archie could come over. Not believing her, Betty asked him if he wanted to confirm with her mom.

Which of course, he didn’t.

So on August 2nd at 2:42pm, Betty was bouncing anxiously in the parking lot where she and Jughead decided they would meet before going to the compound. She was standing on her tip toes, trying to see above the crowd when she heard someone behind her say,

“Damn, girl. Whoever you’re looking for must be really late.”

_Girl._

Betty whipped around. There he was, in a pair of black jeans a a black t-shirt. She didn’t remember him being so toned and muscular when she saw him in New York, but she was not going to complain, either. 

“Juggie!” 

She threw herself into his arms and he lifted her up, swaying her around until she wrapped both of her legs around him, and they started spinning in circles. 

“Hey, Betts,” he whispered against her cheek, squeezing her tight.

“I’m glad you’re home, Jug,” she said back, squeezing him back, just as hard.

* * *

**October 2016**

“Guess what I just did,” she hiccuped into the phone. It was the beginning of October so it was still warm enough for Betty to sit on the big porch swing on the front porch of the farmhouse. She was sitting crosslegged on the swing with a carton of ice cream in one hand and a bottle of wine in her lap. Every so often she would kick out her foot to give herself more momentum and would burst into a fit of giggles each time.

“What, Betty?” Jughead asked. She could tell he was pissed about something. She could tell he had on a small frown and his brows were growing more and more furrowed by the minute. She could tell he wanted to get off the phone, but she was going to keep him here until she was done.

“I said guess, Juggie!”

“Betty I don’t have the fucking—” but she cut him off before he finished.

“I broke up with Archie!”

It was silent on the other end. She knew that his brows had gone from furrowed to up and behind the hair that flopped in front of his head. She was supposed to meet him at the film festival again that summer, but couldn’t make it. Well, Archie didn’t let her go. He threatened to do something to hurt himself if she saw Jughead again and, not wanting to risk that actually being the case, told Jughead that she couldn't go and to give her ticket to someone else. 

A week after the festival, Betty told Jughead the reason why. They were on FaceTime while Betty was on the same porch swing she was on now, when Jughead finally spoke up.

“Break up with him Betts. Please.”

She tried not to read too far into it, but Betty wanted to believe that he wanted her to be single because he wanted her to himself. She wanted so badly to believe that he saw her as someone other than his “almost cousin.” And even more, she wanted to be free of Archie.

“I’ll come back to the island soon if you do it, just please. He’s hurting you, and I can’t stand to see it.”

The idea of him coming back to the island was so appealing, that she almost stood up and went over to Archie’s right then and there. She wanted to see Jughead again so badly she felt it ache in her teeth. The pain of missing him was so real and raw that she felt her body cave in on itself when they weren’t talking. She wanted to see him so badly that she was willing to do anything. Anything but what he was asking her.

“I can’t just break up with him, Jug. It’s not that simple.”

That wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t true either. In theory, she should just be able drive over to Archie’s house, tell him it’s not working out, turn around a go home. 

In reality, it wasn’t that simple at all. If she were to break up with him, she was putting herself at risk to be hurt, maybe even worse than before. She was putting herself at risk of being responsible if something happened to Archie. She was putting herself at risk of a lot of things, but most of all, she was putting herself at risk of being alone.

They don’t tell you how stressful the start of senior year will be until you’re in the middle of retaking your SATs so you can apply early decision to the school of your dreams. They don’t tell you how much of a toll that might take on your relationships with people. They don’t tell you shit. Which is why Betty was so shocked when Archie asked her to come over so they could talk.

She drove over after school and walked inside the unlocked door. He was sitting on the couch with the TV on. She walked over to him and went to kiss his cheek, but he pulled away before she got a chance to. She didn’t dwell on it, opting instead to go into the kitchen and grab a glass of water. 

She hadn’t realized that Archie walked in behind her until he said, “what are we doing?”

Betty whipped around sharply, almost knocking the glass off the counter.

“Hanging out? You invited me over, Archie,” she said slowly. She carefully moved to the other side of the kitchen island so she could put some distance between them, not sure where this was going.

“No, Betty. I mean, fuck,” he fisted his hands into his hair and exhaled hard. “I can’t be with you anymore,” he finally said. “I just… can’t.”

“What do you mean?” She breathed out. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes and she tried hard to get them to go away, not wanting to believe what was happening.

“I can’t be with you. I’m breaking up with you.”

“Why?” She choked out. She wasn’t aware that she had started sobbing, but she was. And she was clutching the edge of the counter so tightly that her knuckles fought against her skin and threatened to break open. 

“Because, Betty, fuck! You’re going to school next year and I am not doing a long distance thing with you and I’m staying here. I’m not going anywhere. And frankly, I’m not going to sit around and listen to you complain for the next six months about how anxious and stressed you are about school when I could be out living my senior year.”

She was frozen. He was breaking up with her, for being ambitious. For wanting to make the most out of her time at school and actually get a chance to get off the island. 

She didn’t say anything else, just left her glass on the counter, walked around him and out of the front door. When she got in her car, she went through the motions of getting in, turning the car on, and driving away, but she didn’t feel it. 

She was numb to the absolute core. 

Betty should have been happy hat Archie was the one who broke them up, because it meant all of her fears about being hurt or responsible for something he did were no longer in the picture. She should have been relieved that it was over. She should have been relieved. 

But she wasn’t in control of what happened. He was, and the fact that _he_ chose to leave _her_ and not the other way around gelt like he still had control over her. She wasn’t strong enough to leave him, and he left instead.

He left. 

The fear of being alone and sucked into a suffocating darkness broke her and she had to pull over so she could throw up. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grabbed the bottle of water from her front seat and drank deeply.

_What the fuck am I going to do?_

In Riverdale, it’s basically impossible to get away with anything illegal because the island is so small. However, if you’re Betty, you’re related to someone like Cheryl Blossom, who will, with no questions asked, leave two bottles of wine and chocolate ice cream on her front porch for you to grab.

Betty drove home from Cheryl’s wine and chocolate in tow, ready to do nothing but sit in her outside bunk room and drink until her head pounded from the alcohol, and not the crying.

But a trip outside to the swing, an entire carton of ice cream, and a bottle and a half of wine later, Betty was dialing Jughead.

“Betts?” She heard him ask quietly. She hadn’t realized it in the moment, but immediately after she realized it was the first time she had said it out loud, and burst into to tears. It was the first time she cried since it happened, and she didn’t know what to do.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she shuddered out. She could hear him “shh-ing” her from the other end which just made her cry harder.

“Hey, Betty, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” he said. “But I need you to take like three really deep breaths for me.” She nodded and as she was realizing that he couldn’t see her he said, “are you nodding at me?”

She let out a wet and shaky laugh and said, “yes, yes okay,” and inhaled three deeps breaths.

“Good,” he said. “Now, tell me what happened.”

She lifted the bottle to her lips. “Archie dumped me for being t-to ambitious,” she grumbled around the bottle. She was met with silence and said, “Jug?”

“I’m sorry, but are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“No.”

“Betty.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“P-probably not.”

“Fucking Christ.”

She could hear him pulling the ends of his hair and she took another big swig of wine, trying to put everything about the day behind her. “I guess I didn’t really do it, though,” she mumbled. She dropped the bottle of wine to the ground and Jughead heard it drop from the other end of the call.

“Where are you?”

“The porch swing,” she grumbled. “I’m so drunk, Juggie.”

“I know, girl, I know.” He sighed and said, “can you walk back to your room?”

“Yes!” She cried joyfully. “My room, where my bed is!”

“Yes, Betts, that’s where you keep your bed.”

She padded across the ground, leaving the wine and ice cream on the porch and walked with bare feet through the cool grass back to her room. She opened the creaky wooden door and stepped inside. 

Betty loved her room, it was the only place in the world she felt safe. It was tiny, eight-feet by twelve-feet. There was a double bed pushed against one corner and a big dresser against the other. Hanging from the ceiling near the dresser was a large piece of driftwood what held all of her hangers. Across from her bed was a huge window that Betty never covered because it looked into the woods on the compound, and Betty liked to watch the sun set from her bed when it was cold.

Her walls were decorated with art and writing and records and anything else that Betty found significant. Under a poster from the film festival that she and Jughead went to the year before was the email with their ticket confirmation. There were photo strips of her and Veronica and Cheryl at the carnival and notes that Archie had written to her taped to the walls too.

Her ceiling though? Her ceiling was the best part of the room. One cold winter’s day, Betty went to the store and bought thirty packs of the stick on glow in the dark stars, and stuck them to her ceiling, so when she turned off her light, it would only be pitch black for a moment before the ceiling became the night sky.

She sat on her bed and shimmied off her jean shorts and tank top, throwing on a soft fleece sweatshirt and climbing under the covers. Betty could still hear Jughead on the other line. It seemed like he put her on speakerphone because she could hear him rapidly typing something on his laptop.

“Did I call you during a bad time?” She asked in a whisper. She felt her eyes flutter shut and didn’t try to fight them.

“No, Betty. It’s never a bad time when it comes to you. I just have this paper I need to turn in before midnight.”

“Oh,” she said, then asked, “what time is it?”

“It’s 12:24am.”

“Oh no, Juggie, I’m so sorry.” Betty’s eyes started to water and her lower lip start to shake.

“No, it’s okay. It was going to be late anyway. Do you hear me?” Betty made some noncommittal noise and nodded. “I just turned it in, okay? Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?”

She wanted so desperately to say yes, but more than that, she wanted to cry until her lungs burned. “No,” she said heavily. She was about to say goodnight when she remembered something he said right after the festival she didn’t make it to.

“Hey Juggie?”

“Yes, Betts?”

“You told me if I broke up with Archie, you’d come back to the compound. I know I didn’t do it, but, will you still come?”

There was silence on the other end until Jughead asked, “when?”

_That’s not a no._

Betty knew that the next time she would have a moment to breathe would be Thanksgiving break. It was a long shot, but she figured she was drunk enough that if he said no, she’d forget it in the morning.

“Thanksgiving. Your mom can come too. I know she’s been talking to my mom.”

Jughead was silent again and Betty was about to take it back when he said, “yeah. Thanksgiving. I’ll be there, with or without my mom.”

Betty exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding and whispered, “thank you, thank you, thank you.” She didn’t know if it was because she was falling asleep, or because she was drunk, but she could have sworn he said, “I’ll go anywhere for you, girl.”


	2. monday– makers mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The song wasn’t half way over by the time they got to the beach, so Betty parked the car, jumped out and threw open all of the doors, continuing their dance party in the damp and sandy beach lot. Jughead ran around the front of the car and grabbed both her hands, pulling them back and forth so they were doing some diagonal dance. 
> 
> When the song ended, Jughead pulled her in for another hug and said, “I’m so happy to see you, Betts.”
> 
> She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of lingering weed and the ocean and replied, “me too, Juggie.”
> 
> He pulled away from her and cuffed his jeans, yelling, “race you!” as he bolted up the dunes towards the beach. Betty gave him a five second head start so she could admire the way he looked in the November light heading towards the ocean.
> 
> And then she bolted after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Welcome to chapter 2! The majority of this fic takes place one on week. 
> 
> This is day one.
> 
> Enjoy!!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, just the story. This is un-beta'd so any and all mistakes are mine.

_day one_

Betty had her tongue down Reggie Mantle’s throat in the grocery store parking lot when her alarm went off. 

She should have felt bad about shoving Reggie off of her as fast as she did, but the alarm going off signaled that she needed to head back to the compound so she could beat Jughead there.

Because today was November 21st. And Jughead was coming.

“Reg,” Betty said breathlessly. She knew that what she was doing was just plain _wrong,_ and that minutes after seeing Jughead she most likely would stop talking to Reggie altogether, but she couldn’t help herself. Because Reggie was probably the last person she should be making out with. 

Actually Reggie _was_ the last person she should be making out with. 

Because Reggie Mantle was Archie’s best friend. And Betty had so many regrets. 

She called up Reggie the night after Archie had broken up with her, and asked him to come smoke at the farm while her parents were out. She knew that Reggie had had a crush on her, and Betty, who was feeling particularly rejected, decided to exploit the ever present hormones of a teenage boy itching to be fucked and called him. 

They had only been smoking for fifteen minutes before Betty had his face crushed between her thighs, covering her mouth to mask her body-wracking sobs of pain and sadness as waves of pleasure. No one tells you the first time you fuck someone after you’ve been dumped feels like a sharpened sword to the cervix.

She made him continue until she came and then forced him to go, saying she’d see him at school the next morning. She didn’t even wait for him to say anything, just got up and left her room and walked to the backside of the house and sat on the porch swing. She knew he wouldn’t be able to see her there, but she’d be able to see when he left. While she was waiting she picked up the wine bottles and melted chocolate ice cream container. Luckily, the open bottle spilled onto the grass and not the porch, so Betty spent a considerable amount of time playing with the blood red blades, even after Reggie’s car had gone.

When it was almost too dark to see, she picked up the wine stained blades and brought them to the garden by her room. She looked at her palms and pretended each blade was a shard of her heart, covered in blood, and vulnerable. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and threw the grass into the air, letting them rain down on her and the now freezing garden and decided that it was okay to be sad about Archie.

But it was time to let him go.

So for the next month, Betty would meet Reggie in empty classrooms, behind the school, at her house or in the parking lot at his work, and fuck him. Because while Reggie couldn’t hold a coherent conversation, he had a decent sized dick and didn’t suck at going down on Betty, and was clean enough that she didn’t mind returning the favor. She didn’t love him. She didn’t even think she liked him. But she wasn’t going to deny that she needed him.

However, when her phone went off alerting her that she needed to leave right then in order to be at the compound before Jughead got there, she didn’t feel the least guilty in shoving him off of her and out the door, speeding away without saying anything.

She sped back to the compound with far too many ideas on her mind. What were they going to do while he was there? She knew they were on pie making duty for the holiday, so they were going to have to make a list of pies that they wanted to bake and get a list of ingredients. They were also in charge of doing the dishes for the whole week which was annoying, but Cheryl promised really good weed if Betty would take over doing the dishes for her.

Which she _gladly_ accepted.

Jughead was also over enthusiastic about an endless supply of weed and autonomy over a dessert group, so Betty couldn’t complain. 

She drove home by way of the beach, so she could see if she could see his boat pulling in. He was on the 3:45pm getting in at 4:30pm. It was 4:17pm, and it took Betty twenty minutes to get home from where she was in that moment. She rolled her windows down and put on an Anthony Hamilton album and let herself feel optimistic about the week. 

“Betts, I said I was coming, would you go back to sleep?” Jughead grumbled into the phone the week before. Betty had woken up from a dream where she got back together with Archie and told Jughead he couldn’t come and called him at the god-awful hour of 6:30am to confirm he was still in fact coming and that she hadn’t fucked everything up.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. It wasn't even light outside yet and she could feel the all too familiar headache that one gets once they've woken up too early building behind her eyes.

“S’okay,” he slurred, “I’ll call you tonight. And I’m still coming. I can’t wait to see you. One more week.”

That was the last phone call they had as he was then swamped with a last minute film project that he needed to complete before he left on Tuesday night. They texted every day though, and with each text, she felt herself getting more and more excited by his arrival. She could feel the loneliness removing itself from her shoulders and moving to stand next to her, holding her hand as to say, “I’m still here, love. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Jughead had sent Betty a text that morning that was just a photo of the New York skyline as he was leaving, along with periodic texts about the status of his trip. According to him, he was right on time.

Betty soon learned that Jughead Jones was a fucking liar.

Because there, in her parking spot on the compound, was Jughead’s black Jeep, seemingly unpacked and unoccupied. 

She threw her car into park, not even bothering to kill the engine and ran around the compound yelling, “you son of a bitch Forsythe! Get out here you bitch!”

She knew she was calling him bitch way too much, and that she was most likely overreacting to something very, very small, but she wouldn’t have spent an extra forty-five minutes in the back of the grocery store parking lot with Reggie if she knew Jughead had already arrived.

Her older sister Polly, who was Jughead’s age and home from school as well, poked her head out of the front door and called, “little house, Betty. And stop cursing,”only to then turn back inside. Betty sprinting across the field to where the entrance of the little house was felt her lungs burning from the adrenaline of physical exertion and anticipation of seeing him again. 

There, on the screened in porch was Jughead Jones, lit bowl in one hand, a book in the other. Betty blamed the hitch in her breath on the mad dash around the compound she just did, but she knew it was because he looked so goddamn breathtaking that it made her heart squeeze in a way she’d never experienced before.

“You little lying fuck!” She screamed, because pleasantries went out the window when she saw his Jeep in the driveway.

Jughead didn’t even flinch, just put the book down, grabbed the lighter and held it out for her, making eye contact for the first time. Betty stood there with her mouth open and unmoving, so Jughead stood up and walked over to her. She thought he was going to give her a hug hello, but instead he put the mouth of the bowl on her lips and raised an eyebrow. 

Betty felt her shoulders drop from her ears and nodded her head, giving the okay for him to light it for her. She took one long hit and held it, keeping their eye contact as well. She exhaled slowly and he _finally_ pulled her in for a hug.

“Are you better now, girl? Not going to fight the love of your life now, are you?”

“You’re such an asshole,” she said slowly, emphasizing every single word. “Is this Cheryl’s weed?” She felt him nod against the top of her head and she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight.

“My car’s still running,” she admitted.

“I know,” he said with a laugh. “Should we go turn it off?”

“Yes. And I wanted to take a walk before dinner. I was gonna cook for you, if thats okay? The same pasta from this summer. The groceries are in my car.”

“You had me at ‘I was gonna cook for you,’ girl. Let’s go.”

They walked back to her car and Jughead explained how he left around 5:00am so he could make an earlier boat. He took the photos and memorized the different places he stopped so he could text her randomly and so she’d believe that he was on track. She hit him on the shoulder and he spun her around, grabbing her and lifting her from behind. She curled her knees to her chest and he continued to swing her around until they reached her car. 

He put her down at the drivers side door, keeping his hands on her hips while she killed the engine. He let go of her and grabbed the groceries from the back of the car. They walked into the farmhouse together and Betty could hear her parents and Polly talking upstairs in the kitchen.

“She found me, Mrs. C!” Jughead yelled up the stairs as he toed off his boots and socks at the front door. Betty kicked off her sneakers and poked him in the side, causing him to jump and glare at her. He mouthed the words “I’ll get you back, girl,” and she mouthed back, “I hope so.”

“Oh we heard her screaming for the whole island to hear. I believe she called you a ‘son of a bitch,’ a few times,” Polly said with a laugh. The room broke out into uncomfortable laughter, and Betty had to quickly change the subject.

“I got these groceries for dinner tonight. We’re gonna drive down to the beach really fast and be back by 6:00pm so I can start cooking!” She dropped the bag on the counter, kissed her parents ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ and dragged Jughead out by the hand, not even giving him time to put on his shoes.

“Betty. It is _cold,_ ” he protested as she got back into her car. She held the passenger side open for him and he slid in.

“C’mon, Juggie! The water is so warm this year and you just _have_ to put your feet in. Especially since there won’t be any swimming this trip.”

He continued to scowl but made a “let’s go” motion with his hands. She backed out of the long driveway and pulled out onto the dirt road, switching gears to drive speedily down to the beach. 

Though they were only going to be in the car for five minutes, Betty handed Jughead the AUX cord, and he played “Frontin’” by Pharrell which made Betty laugh uncontrollably. He turned it up all the way and rolled down the windows, scream singing the words to her and dancing like a maniac in the front seat. 

The song wasn’t half way over by the time they got to the beach, so Betty parked the car, jumped out and threw open all of the doors, continuing their dance party in the damp and sandy beach lot. Jughead ran around the front of the car and grabbed both her hands, pulling them back and forth so they were doing some diagonal dance. 

When the song ended, Jughead pulled her in for another hug and said, “I’m so happy to see you, Betts.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of lingering weed and the ocean and replied, “me too, Juggie.”

He pulled away from her and cuffed his jeans, yelling, “race you!” as he bolted up the dunes towards the beach. Betty gave him a five second head start so she could admire the way he looked in the November light heading towards the ocean.

And then she bolted after him.

They spent the next hour and a half walking down the beach. They both made attempts to push the other into the water, Jughead even going so far as picking Betty up and throwing her over his shoulder. She noticed that when he could, he’d have his hands on her, something that he wasn’t doing much of when he visited in the summer.

They walked the quarter mile down the beach until they got to the pond. A big piece of Beachwood had washed up onto the shore and they sat down on it, looking over the water as the sky got darker.

“Where’s your mom spending Thanksgiving this year?” Betty asked. She was leaned over her knees and running her fingers through the sand, picking up handfuls and letting them fall between her fingers.

“Miami, I think? She has a new boyfriend. He’s sober, which is something I think she’s trying to be. I haven’t met him.” He looked out towards the ocean and said, “she still talks about him sometimes.” 

Betty didn’t need to know who the “he” in question was. From their previous conversations, Betty knew that Jughead’s mom never settled down after what happened between her and Betty’s uncle. 

“He still hasn’t talked to us,” Betty said, tucking her knees under her chin. Jughead slug one of his arms around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re here, Jug.”

“Me too, girl. Me too.”

They stayed there, huddled together against the salty evening air for another fifteen minutes until Jughead declared that he would, “absolutely fall apart” if he didn’t eat within the next twenty minutes. Betty laughed him off and the pair walked back to her car where she produced a banana. 

When he made a face of disgust she said, “it’s either this, or you don’t have anything to eat for at least another hour.”

He took the banana.

He let her pick the music this time and she put on the summer playlist he made for them. When “Sober Thoughts” by GoldLink came on as the first time, Jughead asked her about Archie.

“I’m secretly using his best friend for sex, actually,” was her reply. She hadn’t told Jughead about Reggie yet and she wasn’t quite sure why. Part of her wanted to believe that it just wasn’t a conversation to be had over the phone or text, but subconsciously she knew that she wanted to gauge his reaction to her hooking up with someone.

“Oh, Cooper,” he sighed in a tone that Betty could not make out, “that’s going to end messy.”

“If I’m lucky,” she said pulling into the driveway, “it usually does.” She turned off her car and jumped out, leaving a shocked Jughead in the front seat. She motioned for him to follow her to the outdoor shower where she turned the water to as hot as it could get and ran her sand feet under the water.

“You seriously can’t think that what you’re doing is a good idea?” Jughead said, coming up behind her. Betty instantly regretted telling him about Reggie, but she couldn’t take it back. She stepped to the side so he could get his feet under the water but he grabbed her by the arm, giving her a look that said, “what the fuck?”

“What do you want me to say, Jughead? That I was drinking too much the night after it happened and called up the only guy that I knew wouldn’t be hurt if I used him for sex? That I enjoy orgasms and enjoy not having to do much to get them? That after what happened with Archie the idea of having an emotional relationship with someone is so scary that my hair stands up on the back of my neck? Because it’s all there, Jug.”

He said nothing, just looked at her and toed the water pooling at his feet. She went on.

“I know it’s going to end bad. And I am _so_ ready for it to end. And not for the reasons that you may think. But I want it to end because I want to not be afraid to be alone. I know this guy isn’t the person I am going to spend my life with, but he’s the one who will sneak into my room and fuck me until the unrelenting weight of my loneliness is sated enough to fall asleep.”

Jughead had turned off the water and was looking at her with an odd expression. He wasn’t judging her, because he would never, but there was something behind his eyes that felt so familiar. Betty just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Just promise me I won’t slip on any condoms in the treehouse?” He asked, pulling her into another hug. She gave a wet laugh and nodded. The two of them walked across the wooden porch to the side door of the house, leaving two different sized fading wet footprints in their wake. 

“I forgot you named it that,” Betty said to Jughead as they stepped inside. 

The treehouse. It wasn’t an actual treehouse, but the name that he gave to Betty’s room. When he first stepped in during the summer, he looked around in awe, using the words, “tumblr-ful,” and “bright,” to describe it.

“It’s so… bright,” Jughead said looking around. “And… tumblr-ful.”

“Tumblr-ful?” Betty asked.

“Yeah, you know? Like that boho bedroom aesthetic that girls reblog and hope they’re artistic enough to recreate.” He was touching all of the paper on the wall and grinned sheepishly at Betty, whose jaw was dropped in shock. 

“I had a girlfriend who was _obsessed_ with tumblr. This room would be her porn.”

“I’m just shocked you used the word ‘reblog’ so casually in a sentence,” she replied.

“You know what I mean,” he said back. “But my room is pretty tumblr-ful too.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well unlike this sunbeam, there’s no windows. Not in my room at home anyway. I live in a room in the basement. I like it. There’s zero concept of time in there. Anyway, because it’s in the basement, there also isn’t any overhead lighting, so my room is covered in different colored neon lights and signs. My favorite ones are the wave lights, because they make the whole room seem like you’re underwater.”

“So I live in a treehouse, and you live underwater?” Betty asked in all sincerity. He nodded and continued to look around her room, smiling at the poster for the film festival and laughing at the photo that showed Cheryl dumping an entire bucket of paint on her when they were repainting her room. 

Betty snapped back to reality when she heard her mother ask how the beach was.

“Cold, like I told Betty it would be,” Jughead said, poking her in the side. She tried to slap his arm but he moved away. Betty kept quiet and stepped into the kitchen, pulling the chicken from the fridge and opening the package, dumping into a bowl of cold water and white vinegar to wash it. She started a pot of water and covered it to boil. 

Jughead confirmed that she didn’t need him to do anything before saying he'd be right back and left to go shower and Betty had to try very hard to not watch him as he walked away. It was made all the more easier by the buzzing of her phone on the kitchen counter. 

She walked away from the sink and dried her hands off, opening her phone to see who texted her.

 **Reggie— 6:04pm:** tonight?

 _Fuck,_ Betty thought. It was Monday, which was usually the day that Reggie snuck into her room with red wine and went down on her while she got drunk.

She usually lived for Monday. 

**Betty— 6:19pm:** no & i won’t be at school for the rest of the week either.

She didn’t know why she told him she wouldn’t be at school, because it wasn’t something she planned. Her mother told her she didn’t have to go but she had planned on it anyway. 

Apparently not. 

She wasn’t expecting a response from Reggie so quickly, which is why it was that much more surprising when the text she received was actually from Jughead.

 **Jughead— 6:19pm:** there’s a bottle of maker’s mark in the cabinet.

 **Betty— 6:20pm:** i’m aware…

 **Jughead— 6:20pm:** so we’re drinking it tonight?

 **Jughead— 6:20pm:** great!

 **Jughead— 6:20pm:** putting it in the treehouse now. be up in 5.

She didn’t even get a chance to respond to his question before he made the decision to drink. 

_So definitely no school tomorrow._

Betty didn’t notice that Jughead came back up the stairs and walked into the kitchen. He looked over her shoulder and whispered “delicious” in her ear, which if she wasn’t already confused by the look he gave her outside, definitely confused her now.

“Go set the table, Jones,” she said, batting him away.

“I thought we were on dish duty!” He protested, but walked to the drawer where they kept the placemats and napkins, setting five spots around the round table.

“Hey not to be a Debbie Downer, but how are we fitting everyone at this tiny table on Thursday?” Jughead asked, moving around the table and dropping forks and knives at everyone’s spot.

“We’re bringing in the picnic table from the porch,” her mom said, not looking up from her phone. It was a highly debated topic that Alice was obviously over having. Jughead shot Betty a look across the room, but said nothing, realizing that it wasn’t something to be pushed.

“Dinner’s ready,” Betty called down the stairs to her father, after placing the platter containing the pasta and the bowl of salad on the table. They sat down to eat and Jughead couldn’t stop talking about how good it was and squeezing her leg under the table. It was very platonic. 

Except it really fucking wasn’t.

When they finished dinner and her parents finished questioning Jughead on everything school related, they went to start the dishes. Betty put Jughead on dish-drying duty, and she would be in charge of washing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher and throughout the week they would alternate who emptied it. He kept trying to hit her with the dish towel, and they weren’t even half-way done before Alice banished them from the kitchen, telling them that she’d finish up. She kissed them both on the cheek and thanked Betty for dinner and shooed them out of the house.

Betty and Jughead stepped into the cool air and looked at each other, neither knowing what to say first. Jughead broke the silence with, “I also put brownies in the treehouse,” and so they headed to her room.

* * *

**(JPOV)**

“I never pegged you for a ‘Fleetwood Mac’ kinda guy but I’m glad you grabbed this one off the shelf,” Betty said, taking another hit of the joint and passing it back to him.

 _At least she’s not sixteen anymore,_ Jughead thought as he looked at her. She was laying on her bed with a glass of Maker’s Mark in one glass and the other, when not holding the joint, thrown across her face.

She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

 _She’s also seventeen,_ his conscious reminded him. When he reached out to her on her sixteenth birthday, he wasn’t exactly thinking he'd fall in love with her less than six months later. When they were kids, she followed him around and was that younger girl that he was stuck with all summer sharing his toys with.

Not that he didn’t love her then, because he did. But he didn’t love her like this. It was why when she asked him about the music festival did he only hesitate for a moment before buying the tickets, and when he saw her, he needed to remind himself the whole weekend that she was _sixteen_ and being with her was entirely impossible.

It became even more impossible when she started dating that mother fucker Archie. Jughead hated Archie before he knew what he was doing to Betty. Maybe it was because he wanted to piss Archie off or because he missed Betty or because he needed to see it for himself, Jughead bought a boat ticket to come to the island that summer and see her.

When he saw the way Archie was treating him, he considered calling his dad in New York and asking him to come to the island with a couple of his friends from East New York and handle the situation for him.

When Betty missed the festival and later called him crying, telling him everything about Archie, Jughead prayed for the first time. He prayed that Betty would leave Archie and find her way out of what seemed like an impossible situation.

When Betty called him crying not two months later, saying that Archie broke up with her for being too ambitious, Jughead instantly felt bad for being upset when he answered the call, and thanked God, again, for answering his prayers and getting her out.

When Betty, very drunk and almost asleep, asked Jughead to come for Thanksgiving, he barely hesitated before saying yes, realizing he'd swim there if she’d asked him to.

When he saw Betty, angry and flushed, yelling at him from the screen porch, he allowed himself to love her again.

But when Betty told him that she was using Archie’s best friend for sex because she couldn’t stand the idea of an emotional relationship and so she could feel less lonely, Jughead felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. Not only because she was sleeping with someone else, but because he had planned to tell her how he felt about her, thinking that she felt the same.

But emotional intimacy obviously was not something Betty could handle at that time, and Jughead felt selfish for wanting that from her.

Which is how he found himself listening to ‘Rumors’ on vinyl and staring at her as she numbed whatever loneliness he knew existed with weed and whiskey.

“Will I ever cease to amaze you, Coop?” He asked, inhaling deeply and passing it back to her.

“Oooooh, Juggie. You have to let me play you a song. It came up on my ‘Discover Weekly’ playlist. It’s called ’40 Days’ by a band called Slowdive. You’re going to love it, I promise.”

She got up slowly and walked over to where he was sitting at her desk. She lifted the needle from the record and unplugged the AUX from the record player, plugging it into her phone instead. She fumbled around for a moment before finding it and pressed play. 

The harsh opening notes on the electric guitar immediately grabbed his attention. He bobbed his head a bit as it began and watched as Betty started to slowly spin around and look at the ceiling. 

“Turn off the lights,” she whispered. He reached over and flicked them off, allowing them to be enveloped in complete darkness before the sky lit up. It was his favorite thing about her room. She told him that it took her over a week to put all of the stars up there, and stockpiled hundreds more in her bottom dresser drawer so she could replace a star as soon as it went out. 

“I recently tacked a tapestry to the wall right there, she said, pointing to the wall by the window. She hadn’t stopped spinning, and was letting her body move with the music that surrounded them. 

“Why?” he asked.

“So if I don’t want it to be bright, I just move the tapestry across the room and tack it to the other side.” She said it with such logic that Jughead felt dumb for not not thinking about it in the first place.

“I like this song a lot,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

“The genre is called ‘Shoegaze.’ Isn’t that funny?” She stopped spinning but because she was already pretty drunk and definitely high, she tripped forward and Jughead stood up to catch her.

She blinked slowly and looked up at him with those perfect big eyes, said whispered, “thanks.”

She pulled back and laid down on the bed. They continued to listen to the rest of the album together and she asked, “do you want to go look at the real stars?”

“Let me roll another joint?” He asked as an answer. She nodded her head and kept her eyes closed. He finished rolling and let her take the first hit. They silently stood up and walked out of her room and walked across the lawn to the outdoor shower. She sat down and stood in front of her, staring.

“What?” She asked smiling at him.

“How drunk are you?” He asked in response. She pinched her fingers together which Jughead knew meant, “very.”

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, Betty Cooper. And I’m so glad you asked me to come.”

She motioned for him to sit down next to her and he did. She placed her head on his shoulder and whispered, “did you only tell me that because I’m drunk?”

He kissed the top of her head and said nothing, letting the silence answer her question. She laid down so she could look up at the stars, and Jughead followed. They stayed like that for another twenty minutes, and he found himself wanting to stay next to her for the whole night, even if it meant sleeping outside.

“I think I need to go to bed,” she said quietly, making Jughead jump. He nodded his head and sat up slowly, moving to stand and then pulling her up with him. They walked close together back to the walkway that separated the big farmhouse from the little house. They were close enough that Jughead could see the tiny puffs of air coming from her lips in the cool November night. 

“Goodnight, Jug,” she said, standing on her tip toes to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Jughead buried his face in her hair and inhaled the scent of her shampoo and the woods around her. Her threadbare sweatshirt rose up her midsection when she stood up onto her toes, so he could feel how warm she was underneath her finger tips.

He held on tight to her waist and whispered, “sweet dreams, girl,” then turning on his heel and walking into his room for the night.

Undressing and getting ready for bed, thinking about how glad he was the he reached out two years ago, Jughead was completely unaware of the emotionally unavailable teenage girl, standing barefoot in the November grass, falling head over heels in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think and please stay safe and healthy.
> 
> Come tumble with me! @blackberry-beee
> 
> xx  
> BB


	3. tuesday– on the floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Why is it so god damn bright?_ Jughead thought. His room at home had no windows and his room in D.C. had black out curtains, so he couldn’t figure out why he was laying inside the sun.
> 
> Then he remembered drinking the Maker’s Mark that he found under the kitchen sink. He remembered smoking one of the joints Cheryl left in the bowl on the coffee table. He remembered laying on the ground of the outdoor shower and looking at the stars. He remembered Betty Cooper laying on his arm as she continued to smoke and slowly fall asleep outside in the cold November air.
> 
> He remembered how soft her skin felt under her tattered sweatshirt. 
> 
> But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why he was laying inside the sun with a headache he could feel in the back of his teeth.
> 
> _Oh right._
> 
> Because around 3:30 in the morning Betty Cooper came tip-toeing into his room and asked if he could sleep in her room because she still hadn’t fallen asleep and usually she called him (which he clearly remembered happening multiple times), but since he was only a short walk away if he could come and stay with her.
> 
> He practically ran over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I know this chapter is a few days late, but it was a whole ass hard week. So here we are.
> 
> Also the last episode made me want to rip my hair out so I felt semi-dejected from writing anything.
> 
> Anyway, here is chapter 3! Please comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the story. This story is un-beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

_day two_

_Why is it so god damn bright?_ Jughead thought. His room at home had no windows and his room in D.C. had black out curtains, so he couldn’t figure out why he was laying inside the sun.

Then he remembered drinking the Maker’s Mark that he found under the kitchen sink. He remembered smoking one of the joints Cheryl left in the bowl on the coffee table. He remembered laying on the ground of the outdoor shower and looking at the stars. He remembered Betty Cooper laying on his arm as she continued to smoke and slowly fall asleep outside in the cold November air.

He remembered how soft her skin felt under her tattered sweatshirt. 

But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why he was laying inside the sun with a headache he could feel in the back of his teeth.

_Oh right._

Because around 3:30 in the morning Betty Cooper came tip-toeing into his room and asked if he could sleep in her room because she still hadn’t fallen asleep and usually she called him (which he clearly remembered happening multiple times), but since he was only a short walk away if he could come and stay with her.

He practically ran over.

He offered to sleep on the floor but Betty just grabbed his hand and told him that she liked to sleep on the outside, so he had to get in first. Her bed was warm and smelled like the weed they smoked just hours ago and her lavender and honey body wash. She immediately slid in and turned her body so she faced him. She grabbed his hand and closed her eyes and within five minutes she was snoring.

Jughead wanted to do this for the rest of his life.

Usually when Betty couldn’t sleep, she would call Jughead and ask him to stay on the phone with her until she did. The first time it happened his initial thought was, _holy shit there is something seriously wrong._ But when he realized she called because she couldn’t sleep and needed someone on the phone with her, he wanted to kill her. 

But in that moment, laying next to her and feeling his eyes grow heavy and droopy, he couldn’t help but think that when he left the compound and had to settle for 4:00am phone calls, he’d never be mad at her again.

So it was then and there that he realized the reason that he was in the sun was because he was. He was in the treehouse in the sky and it was late enough in the morning that the cold winter sun had come out in a full blaze. He turned over so he was facing Betty, who was… 

Not there.

He sat up quickly but immediately regretted it as his head was soon pounding and he couldn’t bear the sun and the pain that was still lingering in the back of his teeth. He slowly lay back down but remained awake as he realized he could hear Betty talking to someone on the phone outside the door.

“No, Pea, nothing happened. I couldn’t fall asleep, _again,_ and I usually call him when it happens. But he was five-hundred feet away and I couldn’t help but ask him to come in.”

He couldn’t hear what the recipient was saying, but he knew who she was talking to. While she had Veronica and Cheryl, Betty had a third person who she went to everything in her life with. 

This guy’s name was Sweet Pea. Jughead didn’t really understand why or how that was this kid’s name, but it was. And Betty loved him with her whole heart. He was the type of kid that her parents let her have sleepover’s with because he called her parent’s “mom” and “dad” and didn’t really have a family of his own.

“No. It’s really not like that. He’s in my room, asleep and not bothering anyone, okay?”

There was another pause.

“Yeah, okay. I love you too.”

He heard her walk towards the door of the treehouse, and like a creepy old man, pretended to be asleep while she rummaged around the room. He felt the bed dip as she got back in, and felt her hesitantly running her delicate fingers down his back. He stirred a little at the sensation, and she stopped immediately.

_Fuck, please don’t stop._

He decided that it was time to “wake up,” so he rolled over and looked at her. She was staring at a page of an open book, but her eyes weren’t moving. Jughead nudged her gently with his elbow and she snapped her head in his direction. She smiled at him and slid down so she was laying next to him.

“How’d you sleep?” she asked him quietly. He brushed his hair from his eyes and smiled. 

“Well considering your body temperature seems to run at a fever pitch and I have been described as an icicle, I slept well.” He looked out the window and winced. Betty noticed and got up quickly, unrolling the tapestry. She was right when she said that it changed the room drastically. He could hardly see Betty anymore, but the pounding in his head started to subside.

“Do you want pancakes?” she asked. “There’s also bacon. And coffee. I can bring them down here now.”

“Oh, Betty,” he moaned in a way that _could_ be described as too sexual, “that would be the most amazing thing that anyone has ever done for me, ever.”

She let out a tinkling laugh and squeezed his shoulder. She got out from under the covers and put on a huge fluffy bathrobe that Jughead wanted to roll around in. She opened the door and shot him one last look before stepping out. 

Jughead decided that he also needed to get up to go to the bathroom. He opened the door to Betty’s room, only to be met with a frigid gust of air on his bare ankles and arms.

_Right. Outside. November. Fuck, I have to pee._

He gritted his teeth and walked the five long seconds from Betty’s room to the door that led to the bathroom. The old creaky house squeaked under the feet of Hal upstairs in the kitchen directly above him. Jughead could hear him asking Betty how she slept and if she’d seen Jughead yet.

The silence that followed made Jughead uneasy, but he finally heard her say in a small voice, “I’ve seen him, yeah. And I slept amazing.”

“That’s great, honey,” he heard Hal reply. It seemed indifferent enough that it made Jughead’s stomach tighten. He wanted Hal to be more invested in how Betty slept. Ask about her nightmares. Inquire more about her dreams.

He realized no one was as invested in Betty’s sleep as he was.

Jughead finished up in the bathroom and quietly escaped back to the treehouse. Betty hadn’t come back yet so he climbed back under the covers, determined to not move until he was forced to shower before heading to the grocery store to buy all of the things for pies.

Betty had been put on pie duty, and Jughead had lumped himself in. Partially because he didn’t want to get stuck on whatever job Cheryl had, but mostly because he wanted to remain as close to Betty as he could for the next six and a half days. 

Jughead wanted to go to the store and bake all of the pies tomorrow, but Betty insisted that they go today because everyone would be at the store the day before Thanksgiving, and Betty’s pie dough needed to sit overnight before being baked.

And she didn’t want to make anything on Thanksgiving day, because apparently the morning was reserved for whatever Cheryl wanted to do as Alice wouldn’t allow anyone in the house until dinner at 4:00pm.

So Jughead pulled the covers up to his chin and checked his phone. He had a text from his dad that was just checking in, and radio silence from his mom. He called her on the drive up to tell her where he was going and who he was spending the holiday’s with and she lost her shit. It was somewhat understandable, but Jughead had to consistently remind his mom that he was going for Betty, and not for Alice.

And _he_ wouldn’t be there, as he didn’t talk to anyone in the Smith/Cooper family either.

Apparently his mother didn’t care.

Jughead was used to her texting him every morning with his horoscope or some other random hippie-dippy shit that she was on since getting sober. Jughead didn’t want to say that he hated it, but, he hated it.

He had just opened his camera in hopes of snapping a picture of the treehouse from Betty’s bed to post to his Instagram (not in a creepy or obvious way, just in an artistic way) when Betty walked in with two plates piled high with pancakes, sausages and eggs and two mugs of coffee.

“How the hell did you manage to carry all of that by yourself, _and_ open and close two doors?” he asked. He sat up and grabbed one of the plates and one of the mugs of coffee from her hands. 

“I have lived here my entire life, Jug. And I’m a waitress. I could carry a third plate and walk through the front door over to my room with my eyes shut without dropping anything or tripping,” she said smugly. She placed her plate and mug on the desk next to the bed and sat down. 

Jughead looked at her speculatively and asked, “how do you know this?” She shot him a look and he said, “oh…” realizing that she had probably practiced doing it until she got it perfect. Because she was insane and remarkable and he loved her.

Even if he knew she would never love him back.

She pulled out her laptop, placed it on her lap and pulled up Netflix. She cocked her eyebrow in his direction and he said, “I started New Girl at your recommendation, so we have to continue where I left off before you make me leave this bed and go to the grocery store.”

She laughed at his dramatics and queued up an episode. They sat together in silence, the only noises coming from the screen, or the occasional laugh, or their forks clinking against the plates.

When she was done, Betty placed her empty plate on the desk next to her and leaned her head against Jughead’s shoulder. It was like the shower all over again, except they were in her bed and if he allowed his control to slip, he could quickly have her on his lip and pinned under him. 

He really wanted to let his control slip.

“Your phone reminds me of SpongeBob,” she said after awhile, toying with the case. He looked down at it and couldn’t help but agree. His grandmother, bless her sweet soul, had sent him a protective phone case for Christmas after having expressed he needed one. She didn’t disappoint, and on Christmas morning he woke up to a very expensive case. 

A very expensive bright pink and neon green case. 

Multiple people at school had told him that his case made him look gay, to which Jughead always replied, “pussy is pink too, though.”

That always got people to stop talking about it.

But having it referred to SpongeBob-esque was a new one, and he loved it. But it could just be because he loved Betty Cooper. 

“We can name my phone Patrick,” Jughead said, taking his phone back from her. He pressed his thumb to the home button and it immediately opened, shocking Betty.

“You don’t have a password on your phone?”

“No, why would I?” Jughead asked. He knew why he would, but he wanted to make sure she knew he was available. It was twisted, and he could just tell her. But yesterday at the shower she told him she’d basically never be ready for an emotional relationship again and he couldn’t bear the idea that she might reject him for whatever reason.

“I mean I have a lock on my phone,” she said with a sigh. 

“Well, you have something to hide,” he responded with a shrug and turned his attention back to her laptop. He chanced a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, and instantly regretted what he said. She was furiously biting her nails and looked like she might start crying. 

He pulled her fingers from her mouth and said, “do you want me to put a password on my phone?” Because he really would if she asked him to.

“867247,” was all she said in response and handed him her phone. “Put your thumb in. It will ask for the password. 867247.”

He didn’t know why the sentiment made his heart swell a million times more than its normal size, but it did. 

“Why, Betts? You know I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, still feeling guilty.

“No, you’re right. I do have things to hide. But, not from you.” 

He stared at her for a few moments before taking her phone from her. On her lock screen was a picture of the porch swing in the middle of the summer around dusk. The sky behind the house was a periwinkle blue and the flowers in the garden next to the swing were in full bloom. When he unlocked her phone, he expected to see a picture of her and Cheryl and Veronica, but found something else altogether.

Her home screen was a photo of the two of them that Archie took the previous summer. They were on the beach, Jughead had placed Betty’s oversized sunhat on his head and was laying on his stomach on a towel next to her. He had a joint sticking out of his mouth, but you could still see his teeth through his huge smile.

Betty’s hair was down and covered in salt water. With the angle of the photo, it looked like she wasn’t wearing a shirt, so it looked like neither of them were wearing any clothes. 

Archie was a piece of abusive shit, but he did take a damn good photo.

He made quick work of putting his thumbprint into her phone and handed it back to her. 

“I see you’ve kept one good photo by that cuntwad, Andrews,” Jughead said nonchalantly. Betty shrugged and smiled, but said nothing. She stood up and stacked the cleared plates and empty mugs and walked out of the room.

_Maybe mentioning Andrews was the wrong fucking move, Cassanova._

His phone chimed with a text from Betty which he thought was both odd and endearing. Except, it was just a grocery list for the things they needed to get for the pies, and not a text declaration of her love.

Which he felt embarrassed for hoping for.

When she returned about ten minutes later, her eyes were red and puffy and he could tell she had been crying. Immediately he rushed out of bed and over to her, wrapping his arms around her. 

“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly. “What happened?”

* * *

Her dad had taken her fucking phone away.

Granted it was only for twenty-four hours and she was seventeen and he did pay her phone bill so _technically_ he could, but it was for the most dumb and juvenile thing Betty had ever imagined.

She had a tendency to leave the bag of sugar on the counter after she had made her cup of coffee, and apparently her dad had had enough of it. She blamed Polly too, because she could have just put the sugar away for her, but she didn’t.

When she went upstairs to clear their plates, her dad was sitting at the breakfast table with the bag of sugar next to him. At first, Betty didn’t think anything of it, and continued to wash their dishes and go about her morning, assuming that her dad had it out because of his own cup of coffee, which was sitting there, steaming next to him.

“Give me your phone,” he said as she was starting down the stairs. Betty whipped around and looked at him incredulously. 

“What?” she asked, completely shocked by the statement. 

“Your phone,” her father said sternly. “If you are going to continuously leave shit out on the counters, even when we’ve asked you not to short of a million times, you’re going to have to face consequences.”

Betty stood there, open mouthed and fuming. She quickly opened her phone and texted the grocery list of things they needed for pies to Jughead and turned her phone off, slamming it on the table next to him.

Betty wasn’t the type to cry over material things, and really honestly used her phone to talk to Jughead, but the idea that she was going to have it taken away from her was mind boggling.

“You can have it back tomorrow,” her dad said. She stomped down the stairs, and realized her childish behavior probably wasn’t doing anything in her favor, but she didn’t care to stop. When she got back to her room she pulled herself together. Jughead was in there, in her bed, watching a TV show on her laptop and getting his stupid, intoxicating smell everywhere.

Up until the night before, Betty assumed that her feelings for Jughead were only a little more than platonic. In her mind, the idea of another emotional investment was soul crushing, but he managed to make her feel so special and important that her heart started to overthrow the logic that her brain had built up since Archie.

Maybe she had been harboring feelings for him the entire time, but his repeated sentiments of hating the idea of dating someone younger and being in a long distance relationship put a wall up around her heart and sent her running in the opposite direction of love.

Maybe Jughead was the reason she ran to Reggie.

She decided to, once again, push the idea of Jughead and her being together out of her mind and opened the door to her room. Her hope of Jughead not noticing she was upset was quickly crushed as he noticed her red rimmed eyes and jumped out of her bed and wrapped her up in his arms.

“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly. “What happened?”

“Ugh,” Betty said against his chest. She untangled her self his arms and looked up at him. She placed her fists on his shoulders and said, “my dad took my fucking phone away because I left the bag of sugar out on the counter.”

Jughead looked like he wanted to explode with laughter, but took a shaky inhale and asked, “is that why you texted me the grocery list?” 

She nodded her head and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

_What the hell are you doing, Betty? What the honest hell?_

Jughead was looking at her with an expression that she couldn’t quite decode. His head ducked slightly, and Betty braced herself for something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. However, his face twisted imperceptibly and he pulled back, not stepping away from her completely, but definitely putting space between them.

_See? He doesn’t have feelings for you like that._

“Well since I am the keeper of the keys, I mean grocery list, I should probably go shower and get ready for a long and arduous process of going shopping with you. Don’t forget, Betts, I’ve been on the phone with you while you’ve ventured into the grocery store. It stressed me out from five-hundred miles away, so I don’t really know how I am gonna handle being five feet away,” he joked, finally removing himself from their embrace.

Betty stepped back too and tried quite hard not to imagine him soaked in hot water and lathered himself in whatever spicy body wash he used.

“Yeah, I should too. It’s going to take me at least an hour to clean up the treehouse and shower and try not to kill my dad,” Betty signed. 

Jughead looked at her with a puzzled look and asked, “how is it going to take you an hour to clean this tiny ass room and shower, Betty?”

“Have you seen my hair, Jones? A bird could successfully lay eggs in it, okay?”

“Girl,” Jughead sighed as he gently pushed past her and opened the door, “you’re perfect.”

He left before she could say anything, which absolutely infuriated her. She wanted to ask what that meant, ask for clarification and then ask more questions. But her brain threw up walls before she could even entertain the idea and she decided not to push herself. 

She shuffled around her room tidying things as she went. She thought about the night before, and how she didn’t really believe she walked across the compound at 3:30am to get Jughead to come get in bed with her. Usually, she’d just call him when she couldn’t sleep or had a night terror or stayed up too late reading and needed to talk to him about a book.

It wasn’t that she didn’t think about calling him, because she did. But the idea of asking him to come to her room was more appealing to her. Not because she was expecting anything to happen (but maybe hoping), but because his presence was so comforting that she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ask him to just, _be_ with her.

She just didn’t expect him to say yes when she asked.

When they got to her room, he offered to sleep on the floor, but she ignored him and explained that she usually slept on the outside of the bed, which was a lie. She just didn’t want to give him the opportunity to leave before she could wake up. Which she quickly realized was _so_ creepy, but _so_ worth it. She wanted to wake up to him holding her, but instead she woke up to his back turned to him and the hood of his sweatshirt thrown over his head. 

She spent too much time looking at the muscles of his back through it.

After he left to shower she laid back down on her stomach and pulled the covers up over her head and screamed into her pillow. Then she flipped over and sighed, trying to figure out what to do next. 

In all honesty, her serotonin levels heavily depended on Reggie and his expert tongue. But since that wasn’t something that she would be getting at any point that week, she felt she might spiral into uncomfortable and depressive territory.

_Stupid Jughead Jones and the confusing things he is making me and my vagina feel._

She continued to lay there until she gave up on trying to forget how the idea of him was making her feel and grabbed her vibrator from the bottom drawer of her desk. Standing up and getting her clothes for the day and wrapping it between the folds of her sweater, she walked to the outdoor shower and turned it on to as hot as possible. 

Betty’s parents didn’t turn the hot water for the outdoor shower off until December 31st, so regardless of how cold it was, Betty showered outside everyday.

It was also the perfect opportunity for her lusty moans to be swallowed by the November wind. She stepped out of her sweats and into the steaming water, closing the door behind her. She looked down at the wet wood and remembered laying there the night before, drunkenly looking at the stars with Jughead.

“Fuck,” she whispered as she grabbed the vibrator from its place in her sweater. She turned it to the highest constant setting possible and placed it directly on her clit, not even giving herself the courtesy of starting slow. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, allowing it to fully envelope her. 

She thought of the way his arms felt around her when he wrapped them around her. The way he looked at her with dark eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking. The way his body felt when he laid next to her in bed.

She started to make small circles with the toy as she imaged his lips replacing it. First placing small kisses around everywhere except for where she needed it most. She pressed it harder against her clit, keeping the small motions going as she visualized him entering her. Slowly at first, but then pulling almost all the way before slamming into her at a hard and constant speed.

That’s what did it.

She allowed herself to moan loudly into the hand she clamped over her mouth, and expertly lowered the setting of the vibrator to help bring herself down.

She stood there for a few more moments taking in ragged breaths with her eyes closed. She turned so her face was underwater and tried not to think about what had just happened. Betty usually wasn’t the type to shame herself for orgasms, but she suddenly felt gross.

She spent the next ten minutes standing under the scalding water, turning it up a few degrees each time she acclimated to the new temperature. She felt emotionally naked. She hadn’t taken a shower without music since she got her phone, and didn’t know how to next go about finishing up.

“Betty?” Jughead called, making her jump. She hurriedly checked that the door to the shower was locked and stored her vibrator behind the rest of the bottles of shampoo.

“Yeah, hey Jug,” she responded. She grabbed her body wash and asked, “everything okay?”

“Yeah, no I’m fine. I just came to look for you after I finished showering and couldn’t find you. Your mom said you’d probably be out here, which I thought was insane.” He took a deep breath and continued, “which, I guess you are.”

Betty thought of what had happened only moments before, and felt her whole body grow hot with shame. She felt dirty.

“Hey, weird question,” she said. “Can you go into my room and grab the bluetooth speaker and connect your phone to it? And then play something. Preferably Frank Ocean, but anything will do.”

There was silence for a few moments before she heard him retreating. A few minutes later the opening notes of “Thinkin Bout You” came on and Betty smiled. 

She only realized later in the grocery store parking lot how his song choice could have come across.

She finished up her shower and asked toweled off quickly. She knew she only had a short window of time before the air around her because too cold and the water started to dry too frigid on her skin. When she was dressed in leggings and her biggest sweater, she wrapped her vibrator up in her robe and stepped out. 

Jughead was sitting on the step that led down from the shower into the yard smoking a joint. Betty, feeling slightly bold, moved her face close to his and parted her mouth, catching the end of the exhale. When she pulled back, she took the joint from the stunned Jughead and exhaled in the opposite direction, not allowing him to do the same to her.

_Stupid heart._

“Let me go put this away and we can go. Can you drive? I need to continue looking up ingredients for the store.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond and skipped away.

_Stupid, stupid heart._

She put everything away and grabbed her jean jacket from the hook by the door. It was only when she got back to where Jughead sitting that she realized they were wearing the same thing: black pants, black shoes, grey sweater and a jean jacket. 

“Let’s go, Coop,” he said, standing up. He blew out the end of the joint and placed it in his inside pocket. He slung his arm around her shoulder and they walked over to her car. He hopped in the drivers seat and Betty got in next to him. He pulling her keys out from their place on the dashboard and looked at them quizzically.

“Is this… a Sriracha keychain, Betts?”

“Um, yes,” she said and grabbed his phone from its place on his lap and plugged it into the aux. He turned the car on and she pressed play on the playlist, letting the music fill the silence. She pulled up their texts so she could figure out what else she needed to add to the list. 

When Jughead pulled into the grocery store, Betty was shocked. She hadn’t given him any information or directions and had completely spaced out the entire ride. 

“What? How did you know how to get here?” she asked, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car. He walked over to her side and put his arm back around her shoulder.

“Girl the first thing I did when I got off the boat was find the store. C’mon,” he said and guided her to the entrance. 

The shitty thing about the island, was that it was fucking small, so as Betty was tucked under Jughead’s arm and walking into the grocery store, they passed Archie.

Betty felt Jughead stiffen beside her and puff out his chest in a very territorial and dominant way that the back of Betty’s mind catalogued for her next shower. Archie shot daggers in their direction and Betty distinctly remembered all the times she tried to convince Archie that she and Jughead were just friends and he had nothing to worry about.

But maybe he did.

Jughead, being the asshole that he was, called out, “what’s up, Andrews? Happy Thanksgiving,” and quickly steered Betty into the store.

“What the fuck was that about!” Betty whisper yelled. Jughead said nothing and grabbed the cart and pushed it past her.

“Stop walking away from me!” she said as she caught up to him. She grabbed the handle of the cart and stopped him so he had to face her. His breathing was ragged and his face was red and angry.

“Jug, what?” she asked. He just looked down at her and grabbed her face, holding it between his hands. The same look of pained confusion flashed across his eyes and he dropped his hands down to the top of the cart.

“I just hate him and what he did to you, Betty. And I knew it was going to be a possibility that we’d run into him at some point but I wasn’t expecting it to be my second day.”

Betty looked at him and stood up on her tip-toes to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “He sucks, but running into him is inevitable. But _now,_ after your little stunt, he had another thing to harass me about at school.”

A different type of pain flashed behind Jughead’s eyes and he squeezed her hard, whispering, “then I guess you just won’t go to school this week.”

They separated and their grocery store adventure began. It started smooth enough, with Betty being able to quickly find the produce she needed for the blueberry and strawberry rhubarb pies her mother and Polly requested. 

They moved into the baking isle and while Betty was grabbing the ingredients for the dough, Jughead somehow managed to sneak not one, but three boxes of brownie mix into the cart and under the strawberries so that Betty didn’t see them until they had already been loaded onto the conveyor belt.

But the real trouble started when they walked past the chips isle.

“Elizabeth I will actually fucking die if I don’t get chips this very second,” Jughead said aggressively, trying to pull the cart in the other direction. 

“Dude, you’re fine. I know for a fact you ate all of the leftover pasta from last night for dinner and I _know_ you and you _say_ you can eat everything all the time but you can’t.”

“Fine,” he said, “have it your way. If you don’t want to bring the cart to the chips, then I will bring the chips to the cart!” he yelled running away from her and down the isle. Betty waited, absolutely bored because she didn’t have her phone when someone approached her.

“Is this why you weren’t in school today? And why you didn’t want me to come over last night?” Reggie asked from behind her. Betty turned slowly and rolled her eyes.

_Great. This trip has just been the ghosts of penises past and present._

“Yes,” she said simply and picked at her nails. She knew Reggie had feelings for her, but when they started hooking up, she made it unbelievably clear that they were never going to be in a relationship, and she was looking for something purely physical.

Reggie just stared at her, and though she didn’t want to, she felt the smallest twinge of guilt. The plan had always been that the minute Jughead left on Monday that she would be drunk texting Reggie and asking him to come over and make her feel better.

Except she couldn’t even fathom ever letting him near her again.

“I mean you could have told me. I text—” but he was cut off by Jughead holding at least five party sized bags of chips, a bag of sour patch kids and a box of Reece’s.

“I should have fucking taken the cart but Betty they had boxes of Reece’s which I know are your fav… oh hey man, I’m Jughead” he said, dropping all of the junk food and holding his fist out for Reggie to bump. 

Reggie touched his fist to his and said, “‘sup, I’m Reggie. Betty’s friend.” Jughead drew his hand back quickly and placed it on the cart behind Betty, not actually holding her, but close enough.

“Yeah I know who you are,” Jughead said. He nodded at him and then said, “C’mon, girl. We have more shit to get. Was nice to meet you, Andy,” and pushed Betty and the cart away. They could hear him call behind them, “it’s Reggie,” as they retreated down the bread isle.

“What are we going to fucking run into all of your sex toys today?” Jughead asked angrily. Betty had to hide her laugh behind her hand as they passed Dilton and his girlfriend looking at bagels at the end of the isle.

“Let’s go this way,” Betty tried to say without laughing, but ultimately failed. She was looking in the direction of the couple and Jughead turned his head to see what was making her giggle.

“There is literally no fucking way that that is who I think it is,” he said, turning to her. “Betty! He’s short!” he practically yelled. Betty was doubled over in laughter at that point and could not stop until she was short of hyperventilation. When she had finally caught her breath she heard Jughead mutter, “who could have thought I’d be so un-fucking-happy surrounded by bread and chips…”

They finished shopping and only got into three arguments at the register. The first was about who was paying, the second was about the boxes of brownie mix, and the third was about who was paying… again. Jughead had conceded to letting her pay, but when she pulled out her card and moved to insert it into the reader, Jughead snatched it and held it high above his head. 

He took out his own card and smiled at the cashier, who was looking at them like they were the craziest people that she had ever encountered. Betty realized that she was eyeing up Jughead and didn't realize that she had wrapped her arms around him until he draped one of his around her too.

They finished paying, took all of the groceries out to her car and then Jughead brought the cart back to the front of the store. When he got back he jumped in the drivers seat and took his phone from Betty, putting “Thinkin Bout You” back on.

It was then that Betty realized the implications of the song could be.

They drove in semi-silence back to the compound and unloaded everything into the little house so they could use that kitchen as their home base. It was after five when they got back, so Jughead poured them the remaining sips of the Maker’s Mark and then lamented that they had just finished all of their alcohol for the entire week.

“Nonsense. I'm related to Cheryl. She can bring us over whatever we want tomorrow,” she replied. She pulled out what she needed for the dough specifically and one of the boxes of brownie mix. While he wasn’t paying attention, Betty managed to pre-heat the oven, mix the batter and quietly slide it into the oven.

She called him over and asked him to help her with the dough. He rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands and asked, “what do you want me to do, girl?”

She gave him the job of chopping the cold butter while she measured everything out. By the time he had gotten through the second stick he said, “no…”

“What?” she asked. But she knew what. He could finally smell the brownies in the oven and smiled a huge smile.

“You know what, Betty girl,” was all he said, and placed a small kiss to her cheek.

_Platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic, platonic._

They finished making the dough and Betty pulled the brownies out just as Polly walked over to tell them that it was time for dinner. The three of them walked to the big house and sat to eat. Betty tried to be mad at her parents, but found it incredibly hard to do so.

They had put on a movie after dinner, and Jughead decided that he and Betty were going to lay on the floor to give her parents and Polly more room on the couch. About twenty minutes into the movie, Jughead passed her his phone.

The notes app was open and what was there said, **stars?**

She smiled at him and typed back, directly underneath, **is this middle school?**

**j: basically. you got your phone taken from you for leaving out the sugar this morning.**

**b: fuck you.**

**j: ok but for real, can we go? I would like to smoke before I go to sleep.**

**b: you realize we’re writing each other notes on the floor, right?**

**j: yes. and I’m going to keep them forever.**

They stood up and bid her parents goodnight and Betty and Jughead spent the next two hours laying on the floor of her room, not talking out loud but writing notes on Jughead’s phone and laughing in between hits and switching off who played a song and eating the brownies with spoons, straight from the pan.

By midnight Jughead decided that he needed to go to sleep so Betty walked him over to his room. They once again stood facing one another, both unsure of what to say. Jughead moved first and wrapped his arms around her.

“Come get me if you need me, okay?”

She nodded and hugged him back. She wanted to tell him that she needed him now. That she wasn’t going to be able to sleep if he wasn’t there anymore. That the idea of not having her phone and being able to contact him if something happened freaked her out even though she knew he was right there.

“Goodnight, Juggie,” she said and stepped away. He squeezed her hand and pulled her in. He kissed her cheek, and then once again, promptly turned on his heel and walked back over to his room.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting somewhere with these two! 
> 
> The layout of the compound will be explained a bit more thoroughly next chapter as I realize it _could_ be confusing. 
> 
> Anywho... come tumble with me @blackberry-beee ! 
> 
> And as always comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Until next week
> 
> xx  
> bb


	4. wednesday– skinny dip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She told him to go first.
> 
> He didn’t want to. But obviously, he did. 
> 
> “You have to turn around when I undress,” he yelled over the gusts of wind that whipped through his hair. He shrugged off his jacket and started to regret saying yes to her. 
> 
> “Okay,” she yelled back. He chanced a look at her over his shoulder and saw she was staring at him with a look of pure calm on her face. It was as if she had planned this the entire time. Maybe she had. Maybe she hadn’t. But Jughead couldn’t back down now. He nodded his head and she turned around. He ripped off his sweatshirt and jeans and underwear and threw them into a heap onto the sand and without thinking, booked it into the water in front of him.
> 
> When he came up for air, he heard a splash behind him. Betty must have stripped the moment he started running and joined him soon after. He turned around and saw her alone head pop up and bob in the water. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and Jughead swam a bit closer to her. He could feel her body heat radiating off her and through the water. 
> 
> “Hi,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Wow I suck. But it was just one of those weeks where nothing went right an my comp didn't save my chapter and ugh.
> 
> Quarantine is getting to me, but writing is definitely keeping me somewhat sane, and all of your amazing feedback is also helping.
> 
> Here is day three!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the story. This is un-beta'd and all mistakes are mine.

_day three_

In all of her years, Betty had never been so angry to get a good nights sleep. 

Usually a good nights sleep meant she could be a tolerable person throughout the rest of the day and maybe even crack a smile in the direction of the people she passed in the hall. 

But this morning?

Betty woke up wishing she had had a nightmare. 

Her father still had custody of her phone, so she couldn’t text Jughead and ask him if he was awake, and it was the day before Thanksgiving, and they needed to start making the actual pies.

And she woke up from a dream where she told Jughead she loved him and he said he loved her too. And then he made love to her in a way that when she thought about it in the morning, made her cry.

She chose to shower outside again, and grabbed all of the things she needed in order to do so. Taking a very quick, very hot, outdoor shower, she wrapped herself in her thick robe and walked back to her room. She threw on a big grey men’s thrift store sweater that she thought would look nice on Jughead and headed upstairs.

When she got there, she found her parents and Polly sitting at the breakfast table with Jughead, drinking coffee and talking about all that needed to be done that day. 

“Good morning, princess,” Jughead quipped while taking a sip of his scalding coffee. Betty could see the lines of steam coming off of it and wanted to take if from his hands, curl up on the couch, and not talk to anyone until she finished it.

As if he could read her mind, Jughead handed her the coffee _and_ her phone as she walked over. He wrapped his arm around her waist as she stepped up to him, and squeezed her tight. 

“Sleep well?” he asked as she walked over to her dad and kissed the top of his head. 

Betty took a sip of the coffee before nodding and replying with, “too well,” while throwing a glare in Jughead’s direction. He sent her an unreadable smirk, and Betty walked away from the table, grabbing a piece of un-toasted sourdough bread and sitting down on the huge couch in the corner of her room.

She balanced the coffee on her legs and plugged her phone into the outlet behind her. She slowly chewed the bread and tried hard to not make eye contact with Jughead, but she could feel his gaze on her cheek and she subconsciously wiped away invisible crumbs that littered her mouth.

She opened her phone once it had come back to life and checked her messages. She had texted Cheryl from Jughead’s phone around 11:30 the night before to let her know she wasn’t dead and that they needed some type of hard alcohol for them in order to make it through Thanksgiving. Cheryl replied with only a winkey face that Betty left in the messages for Jughead to decode in the middle of the night.

She also had a few texts from Reggie.

 **Reggie- 11/22/2016: 6:43pm:** i see you wasted no time getting a new fuck buddy, betty.

 **Reggie- 11/22/2016: 6:57pm:** that was rude.

 **Reggie- 11/22/2016: 6:58pm:** i’m sorry. i just…

 **Reggie- 11/22/2016: 7:18pm:** nvm. see you at school. or not. happy thxgiving

She chose to ignore all of the texts but leave them in her messages, again, to let Jughead try and decode himself. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him walking over to her as she was scrolling through her Instagram. She moved over so he could sit next to him, and absentmindedly handed him the cup of coffee, which still had a few sips left.

“You know,” he whispered in her ear, “I had mixed feelings about your lack of nightmares last night.”

Betty took the coffee back to try and hide the shiver that went through her spine. She tucked her knees under her chin and asked, “why’s that, Jones?”

“Well for one,” he started and discreetly tucked a piece of her wet hair behind her ear, “I was incredibly happy that you slept well, because it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with an angry Betty while we made pies today.” Then he tucked one of his pinkies under hers and whispered, “but it meant I woke up alone.” 

This time she let her shiver take over her body and give him a slight insight as to how he made her feel.

“If you turn on a scary movie around 10:30pm, you won’t even make it out of my room,” she murmured. 

That time, he shivered.

“So that’s all it takes?”

“Currently,” she replied. She leaned her shoulders against his and felt his right arm graze the skin of the stomach that was exposed by her sweater rising up. 

“We have to start making pies in a little bit,” she said. She tried to sit up but Jughead grabbed the waistband of her leggings and shifted her weight onto him. 

“Not yet.”

So for the next hour they sat on the couch watching videos on Betty’s phone and trying to touch each other as often and as fiercely as possible without letting anyone notice. 

“C’mon,” she said a while later. “Let’s go walk around a bit. I need some fresh air before I lose my mind.”

He nodded and they filled up two more mugs of coffee and headed out the front door.

Betty’s grandparents bought the land in the 70s, and when they bought it, it was an old farm with stables and everything. They converted the stables and barn into a house where Betty’s parent’s currently lived. 

To get inside, there was a big wrap around porch where the porch swing was. From the driveway, one could either go right, where the staircase to the main house was, or left, which led to the outside rooms that were converted out of old stables. Betty’s room was two stables put together, and to get inside the main house, she had to walked across the width of the porch where she would get to a side door that led inside.

It was an upside-down house. Her parent’s bedroom was on the ground floor as well as the guest room. There was only one bathroom as the upstairs was an open floor plan with tons of light and a huge porch going off of it. The kitchen, living room, and dining room were all on the upstairs floor.

The little house was build where the main farmhouse on the property was. It was torn down in the 70s when Betty’s grandparents bought it. It wasn’t until the early 2000s that they build a guest house, which was dubbed “the little house.” It also had two small bedroom that were connected to the house by only a porch.

Jughead slept in one of the small bedrooms.

The distance between their rooms was about 500 yards. There was a stone-slab walk way, but each of the stones were separated by six inches of grass, and Betty often tried to entertain herself by closing her eyes and jumping from stone to stone without falling or touching the grass.

She skinned her knees a lot.

In addition to the houses, porches and porch swings, there were two parking lots, and one small “pump house” which was shaped like a small windmill that Betty had been fixing up since her freshman year. 

The outdoor shower was basically connected to Betty’s room, which was why she loved using it so much. It was down a few steps and still on the porch and she installed the door herself.

It was her sanctuary.

In the summer, there were three gardens that were constantly in bloom. Two were vegetable gardens, and one was a flower garden. Betty and Cheryl planted a bunch of pot plants behind her room in hopes that when it got warm enough they could actually do something with it.

In the summer, there were also random places where flowers grew, and the huge fields that surrounded the property were filled with wildflowers and sometimes when Betty would get sad she would sit in the outermost patch of flowers and sob, hoping the beauty around her would be comforting enough to help her stop.

In some cases, it actually worked.

Betty, feeling like the little girl who used to want to show off for Jughead when she was six, decided she was going to jump from stone to stone without falling or touching the grass. He stared at her with another indecipherable look and watched as she made it almost to the end before her bare foot caught the lip of the stone and she went careening forward. 

She opened her eyes just in time to throw the cup of coffee to her left and catch herself on the edge of the porch. After a few beats, she caught her breath and twisted so she could sit on the porch. 

She looked up to find Jughead standing directly in front of her, eyes wide in shock and referred pain.

“Jesus fuck, Elizabeth. I thought you said you were good at this!”

“I am!” she yelled back. “Just some times I fall and skin my knees or hands or face. When I stop FaceTiming you for a bit, I usually gave myself some sort of facial injury that I don’t want you to lecture me on.

“You might actually be the literal death of me I swear to fucking God,” he murmured, pulling her up by her elbows and walking her inside the little house. He took her straight to the bathroom sink and turned the water to lukewarm.

_No fucking fuck! He’s gonna see and I don’t have the mental faculties to move fast enough and he is either going to yell at me or cry and I cannot handle this this morning!_

She went numb and let him run the water over her hands, wincing as she realized that her fall reopened some of the cuts on her hands and she waited for him to say something about the state of them.

At first he didn’t. Maybe it was because he was rummaging in the cabinet behind the mirror for something, or maybe it was because he didn’t want to embarrass her, or maybe it was because he genuinely didn’t see.

But when he did say something, it was a silent explosion. Like an over-shaken seltzer bottle being opened inside of a jar of molasses.

“Betty,” he whispered. “How did you do this?” he asked, indicating to the bloody indentations on her palm.

“How?” she asked. “Or why?”

“Well I’m not that dumb,” he replied, bringing her hands to his face, “I can deduce why. It’s the how I’m curious about.”

She flexed her fingers and said, “well my mother had been grooming me to always keep my nails long. She said they looked more lady-like. It started the first time Archie… I had my fist clenched together because I didn’t want to react, and when I finally let them go, they were wet with blood.”

He stood there, still holding her wrists, examining the cuts on her hand and saying, “next time you want to do this, just call me. I don’t care where I am, or what I’m doing, or who I’m with. Just send a quick ‘911’ and call, and I will answer.” He hugged her close to his body and Betty couldn’t help but think of her dream and how bad she wanted him to be able to do that forever, comforting her or not.

“Okay,” she said clearing her throat, “we have a lot of pies to make and not a lot of time to do it because I want to go to the beach before it gets dark. And it gets dark early here.”

“Lead the way, Boss.”

She hid her smile in the collar of her sweater and walked over to the freezer, pulling out the pie dough and allowing it to defrost. She put Jughead on apple peeling duty while she got to sizing the ingredients for the berry pies. They worked in tandem and were actually able to achieve a lot in a short period of time. 

“You could have an excellent career in baking, Jones.”

“I mean, I’ll probably have to resort to it since no one really gets to have a career in film or writing either,” he said, expertly slicing the apples and putting them into the big bowl that Betty provided. 

“I think you’ll be just fine,” she said, pausing to hand him a spoon with pumpkin pie filling. “You’ll write the next great American novel and dedicate it to me because I called you one too many times at school.”

“Like I said, girl. It’s never too many times if it comes from you.”

They finished making the rest of the pies and wrapped them tightly in tinfoil before placing them back in the freezer.

“Smoke?” Jughead asked. Betty nodded and he pulled an already rolled joint out of his pocket with a sheepish look and passed it to her first. She took a huge inhale and held it until her lungs were on fire. She passed it back to him and thought about how incredibly sexy his lips look wrapped around it and she wanted so desperately to… want him.

She had resigned to the fact that she was attracted to him. It was a given at that point. However, she didn’t know if her heart was one-hundred percent in it. Yesterday it was. Today, after waking up alone and realizing that she ached for him to be there, her heart started to shut down, as if to say, _“no more emotional attachments, Betty.”_

But she thought that if she really felt that way then she would have responded to Reggie’s text and maybe even invited him over. But instead she was thinking of ways she could get Jughead back into her bed that night and if her heart would be okay the following morning. 

She felt betrayed by her emotions. She had always known that there was something more for Jughead, maybe even since they were young, but she wasn’t expecting him to just drop in like this. 

They say love never comes at a convenient time, and though this couldn’t be more of an inconvenient time, she thought she might just lean into and allow herself to feel again.

After Archie, she thought that the part of her that was a hopeless romantic had been buried after being set on fire. 

But Jughead set her on fire in a different way. And though it absolutely scared her, she figured she might lean into it just a bit. 

“Want to go to the beach?” she asked him. She needed to get out of the small space and get some fresh air, and the ocean was calling her in that moment. She didn’t know what exactly it was looking for, but she knew she needed it.

They cleaned up the kitchen and walked out to the cars with arms piled high with beach blankets. Jughead insisted that if Betty was going to drag him to the beach in the cold, that he was at least going to bring something warm with him. 

They decided to take his car as it was bigger and newer, meaning it had heated seats and a better heating system, and they were on their way.

* * *

Betty had convinced him to go skinny dipping.

In the ocean.

In November.

Granted, it didn’t take much convincing, but all of a sudden he was walking back down the dunes to turn on his car and get the heat blasting so that it was ready when they ran back down.

He was already numb, not because of the eminent cold water that was soon to engulf his naked body, but because that same cold water was going to engulf Betty’s naked body as well.

When he woke up that morning, dick hard and angry and dripping with pre-cum, he without thinking, wrapped his hands around it and jerked himself off to the memory of her body against his in her bed and outside in the middle of the night.

After he wiped the cum from his stomach and swallowed the guilt of jerking off to an underage girl in the room across the lawn, he realized that she was in her room and he was in his. 

_She must have slept well,_ he thought.

_Or she hates you._

He tried not to dwell too much on the latter thought, and got himself ready for whatever she had planned for that day. He knew that they had to make the pies and that at some point Cheryl was going to come over with more weed and alcohol and Betty was going to get her phone back and probably text that boy from the grocery store.

Jughead was honestly so angry about how many people he saw/met yesterday that had seen and felt Betty naked against them. The thought of it made his blood boil with rage and jealousy and he wanted to scream and break things in that junk food isle. Instead he just made an ass out of himself and hoped Betty didn’t hate him for it today.

It was why he was hoping she got a good night’s sleep because he couldn’t bear the idea that she hated him after what had happened.

He found himself drinking coffee and sitting with Betty’s parents when she came trudging up the stairs. Her hair was still wet from the shower she had just taken and she had on the softest looking sweater Jughead had ever seen.

He called her princess.

She looked like one.

She took the coffee from his outstretched hand and hugged him around his shoulders and he wrapped his arm around her waist and Jughead had to remember that her parents were sitting right across the table.

She stole his coffee and retreated to the big couch in the far corner of the room. Jughead stared at her for far longer than was appropriate. He knew that she could feel him staring, and gave her props for not looking over and starting what could be the most intense round of eye-fucking that Jughead would ever engage in in his life. 

He waited as long as he could before excusing himself and cozying up to Betty. He touched her as much as he could and everywhere he could without being too obvious and she returned the same sentiments.

“You know,” he whispered in her ear, “I had mixed feelings about your lack of nightmares last night.”

Betty took the coffee from him in an attempt to hide the shiver that went down her spine, but they were pressed too close together and Jughead could feel every movement. She moved from him slightly, tucking her knees under her chin and asked, “why’s that, Jones?”

He stared at the side of her face and watched as a stray piece of hair escaped her bun and he couldn’t help himself. He tucked it behind her ear and said, “well for one, I was incredibly happy that you slept well, because it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with an angry Betty while we made pies today.” He chanced the opportunity to intertwine his hand in hers, and wrapped his pinky around hers. He waited to see if she would pull away and then brushed his lips against her ear saying, “but it meant I woke up alone.” 

She let him feel her shiver at that. She was maybe opening up to the idea of opening up to him, but hadn't gotten there yet. It was a step, a step in a direction that Jughead had been on for over a year. 

“If you turn on a scary movie around 10:30pm, you won’t even make it out of my room,” she murmured. 

That time, he shivered.

“So that’s all it takes?”

“Currently.”

He had no idea, but he was going through a list of scary movies that he could put on before they fell asleep, and hoped she really wouldn’t kick him out of her room. 

So yes, he did know why he felt numb standing barefoot in the sand in the middle of November. He did know it was a combination of things completely out of control. He knew that within a matter of moment he would strip out of all of his clothes and plunge into the coldest water he had ever felt in his life.

She told him to go first.

He didn’t want to. But obviously, he did. 

“You have to turn around when I undress,” he yelled over the gusts of wind that whipped through his hair. He shrugged off his jacket and started to regret saying yes to her. 

“Okay,” she yelled back. He chanced a look at her over his shoulder and saw she was staring at him with a look of pure calm on her face. It was as if she had planned this the entire time. Maybe she had. Maybe she hadn’t. But Jughead couldn’t back down now. He nodded his head and she turned around. He ripped off his sweatshirt and jeans and underwear and threw them into a heap onto the sand and without thinking, booked it into the water in front of him.

When he came up for air, he heard a splash behind him. Betty must have stripped the moment he started running and joined him soon after. He turned around and saw her alone head pop up and bob in the water. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and Jughead swam a bit closer to her. He could feel her body heat radiating off her and through the water. 

“Hi,” he whispered. Now that he was in, everything under the water except his head, it wasn’t so bad.

“It’s the initial shock that hurts the most,” she said. She treaded water next to him, and their shoulders bumped every few moments. Jughead was grateful that the water had sent his balls up to hide behind his bellybutton, otherwise it would be incredibly awkward when they got out of the water.

“How do we manage to get out?” he asked. She was looking out towards the horizon and instinctually Jughead reached for his phone, which obviously wasn’t there, to take a photo of her. She looked like something you read about. There was no way she was _actually_ glowing, but the sun setting behind her made it look like her wet hair was a sticky wet halo that was plastered to her face. 

“You’re so beautiful, Betty,” he couldn’t help but say. She snapped her head towards him and smiled. She didn’t say anything, but Jughead knew that it meant a lot to her to hear it. 

“If you get out first and get dressed and run to the car, I’ll get out after you and do the same,” she said after a beat.

“I don’t want to leave you in here alone, Jughead said, growing nervous. He inched towards her, but remembered that he was naked and under water and couldn’t get near her without fucking everything up.

“I’ll be fine. And right after you. I promise.”

He looked at her skeptically. “If you’re not in the car five minutes after I leave the dunes I am coming to get you,” he said sternly. He couldn’t help but panic a bit at leaving her in the ocean, but in the end, it was her choice.

He swam in and he turned Betty for not telling him how brutal it would be once his body was out of the cold. His skin felt so tight that the slightest brush of a knife could cut all the way through it. When he put his clothes on he cried out in pain. At first he thought something really did cut him, but the he realized his skin was so raw and in pain that it was just the way his clothes felt on his body.

Putting on his jeans felt like torture, and once they were on, the act of walking felt like he was being sanded down with a power sander with the highest grit an the highest setting. 

When he got to his car, he was so incredibly grateful that Betty convinced him to turn it on and leave the heat on high with the seats on too because sitting in it he immediately started to thaw.

He started the clock for five minutes as soon as he sat down. Four minutes later Betty opened up the passenger side door, and Jughead’s jaw almost dropped. She wasn’t wearing anything, just the big towels they brought wrapped around her. By the looks of it, the wind blew her clothes into the ocean, because they were sopping wet. But the sparkle behind Betty’s eyes made the panic of her being alone in the ocean vanish. She pulled herself into the Jeep and closed the door, breaking out into incontrollable shivers. Her lips were turning blue and her skin was growing more pale and Jughead was now really panicking about what to do.

“Drive,” she said throw chattering teeth. Jughead threw the car into reverse and then gunned it out of the parking lot, driving at least twenty miles an hour down a bumpy dirt road. Jughead thanked whatever god was out there that the gate to the beach was open so he didn’t have to stop and get out and undo the lock.

When they got back to the compound, Jughead parked in the lot closest to his house and brought Betty inside so she could shower and warm up in there. He knew she hated showering inside but it really wasn’t up to her anymore.

He turned the water to almost too hot so it would warm her but not burn her sensitive skin an then met her in the living room.

“Betty, one day you really will kill me, and I won’t be responsible if my ghost haunts you for the rest of time,” he said, guiding her by the shoulders to the tiny bathroom.

“Look, I didn't think I was going to get this cold this quickly, okay? Usually when I do it I just get a little cold and then warm up fast.”

“Yeah well you also don’t usually fall when jumping the stones or carrying plates of food but we’re breaking all the fucking rules this week, Betts. Now just, warm up and shower. I’ll throw some of my clothes and a towel on the counter in a bit.” He walked out of the bathroom and shut the door. He ran his hands through his salty hair and really wished their relationship was something other what what it was so he could be in the shower with her.

Instead, he grabbed a pair of his sweatpants and a thermal long-sleeve shirt and placed them along with two towels, on the counter. When he walked back out to the living room, Cheryl was sitting on the couch with a huge chunk of recently thawed pie-dough in her hand, obviously mid bite.

“Hi Jonsey!” she squealed and jumped up. Jughead laughed and met her in the middle, wrapping her in a tight hug. They had never been that close growing up, but when Jughead came back for the week last summer, they got closer. It was obvious how much Cheryl loved Betty and because of that, Jughead loved Cheryl.

“Hi, Red,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “I heard you’re our own personal drug mule this week.” 

“Oh please. I’ve been Betty’s on-call drug dealer since Archie dumped her. I’d rather the stuff she used/smoke/drank came from me and not from some guy who laces his coke with fentanyl.”

“Betty’s doing coke?”

“Did. Once. She was so hell bent on the idea that she just wouldn’t be able to sleep ever again that she decided that cocaine was the best way to handle it. No sleep equaled no nightmares,” Cheryl said. 

“And I take it that didn’t go well for anyone?”

“She walked to my house, barefoot, at 5:00am. So no, it didn’t go well for anyone.”

All of a sudden the shower turned off and Cheryl sent him a raised eyebrow.

“She got back in my car completely naked after she made me go skinny dipping. Then her lips turned purple. Like, Barney purple, Red. Then I couldn’t really bring her to her house naked and hypothermic, so I brought her here,” Jughead explained. There was no panic in his voice, just clear cut facts.

“Hmm,” Cheryl nodded. Then she asked, “you still love her?”

Jughead wasn’t shocked to be asked this. Cheryl was observant enough to know how Jughead felt about Betty. Anyone with eyes could see it. 

Everyone except Betty.

“Yep.”

“Fantastic,” Cheryl said. Then she yelled out, “Betty Boop, I’m here. Just popped in to drop off your stuff and head back out. Daddy wanted me to do something before tomorrow. But I’ll be back in the morning. I love you!” Cheryl stood up on her tip-toes and kissed Jughead’s cheek and then swiftly left the house.

“Was that Cheryl?” Betty asked, stepping out of the bathroom. Her cheeks and lips were of a normal color and her hair was wet and dripping down her back. She was wearing her pants and shirt and Jughead felt the instinctual _Mine_ that guys felt whenever they saw girls in their clothes.

“Yeah she came by to give up the stuff and say hi to me,” Jughead replied. “I’m going to get in the shower before dinner. I’ll meet you over there? _And_ I’ll figure out what scary movie we’re watching.”

“Sure,” Betty said and turned and walked out of the door. Jughead couldn’t read her. In some moments, he was positive she felt the same way for him as he did for her. But then there were moments like that, where there was the opportunity for something more to be said, but nothing was actually done. 

Dinner was, as usual, fairly boring and uneventful. Alice went over all of the things that they were going to need to do tomorrow and what time they needed to be out of the upstairs area. Betty’s room and the little house were fine as long as they moved if Alice needed to use the stove or oven. 

The Blossoms, the Lodges and Sweet Pea would be arriving throughout the day. Jughead learned that Sweet Pea usually stayed over the night before Thanksgiving, but this year opted against it. Alice found it weird, but Jughead found it heartwarming, because he knew how much Sweet Pea meant to Betty, and how not having him around then he normally was, was something big.

Like, “I love you too, Jughead,” big.

_Yeah right._

When dinner was over, Betty and Jughead did the dishes and said goodnight to her parents, promising that if they wanted breakfast that they would be upstairs before 9:30am or find it somewhere else. They walked out to the treehouse and Betty got into her bed, leaving the outside for Jughead.

“I thought you slept on the outside,” he said. He was wearing a different pair of sweatpants and was very grateful about his choice to put them on. 

“I lied,” she said through a yawn. “I just didn’t want to give you the opportunity to leave.”

“And what makes you so sure I won’t leave tonight?” Jughead asked. But even he knew that it was impossible to think about, let alone do.

“Because you want this as much as I do,” she whispered. It was only 9:00pm, but Betty’s eyes were getting heavy and tired from the day, and Jughead could honestly say that his were too.

“Does that mean I don’t need to put on a scary movie?”

“Oh god, please don’t,” she said. She rolled on her side so her back was to him, and Jughead, feeling bold, turned off the light and got in with her.

“Can I put my arm around you?” he asked. He was really hoping he’d be able to hold her, and knew the only way to do that was to ask.

Instead of verbally answering, she reached her arm back behind her and dragged it across her body so his stomach was pressed to her back and his arm was wrapped around her middle.

“Lift your head,” he whispered. She inched it up and Jughead tucked his arm underneath it. He had her completely wrapped up in his arms and he was living for it.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to fall asleep on my own when you leave,” she said. Jughead could tell she was trying not to cry because her voice sounded tight and her body stiffened against his.

“Don’t think about it yet, okay? I’m here now, and we can handle the rest later,” he said, his own throat feeling constricted. He forgot all about the fact that in four days he’d be leaving and heading back to D.C. and she’d be here and he’d have to settle for 4:00am phone calls over falling asleep next to her.

“It’s all I think about,” she said back. He pressed his lips to the back of her head and nodded, letting her know that he was thinking and feeling the same.

“We’re right here, Betts. We’re right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Thanksgiving is the next chapter. It feels so super weird to be writing about Thanksgiving, but here we are. 
> 
> Also the layout of the compound is actually the exact layout of the property I grew up on, and I too, showered outside until my parents cut off the hot water. They waited until after my birthday (which is in Feb), but still.
> 
> And I swam naked in the November ocean whenever I could.
> 
> Anyhoo, see you next week.
> 
> xx  
> BB


	5. thursday– bloody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Calm down,” Cheryl said, and linked her own arm through Jughead’s. “If there is anyone who Betty considers family here, it’s Sweet Pea.”
> 
> Jughead nodded, but didn’t feel much better about the situation. Yes, he felt guilty about reacting in such a protective and dickish way over their interaction, but on the flip side, he also felt guilty for being so jealous of their friendship. He knew that he wanted to be more than Betty’s best friend, but he also knew that he would have a hard time going back to being _just_ that when he left. 
> 
> And he knew she’d have Sweet Pea to lean on when he did leave. 
> 
> And even though she said that their relationship was platonic, bordering on familial, Jughead couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the way Betty was with Sweet Pea as she was with Jughead.
> 
> And they all knew how easily things like familial-esque relationships could change with Betty Cooper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii!!!  
> I didn't forget about this story, I promise! The world got away from me, but we are back on schedule! Here is your Thursday night Bughead update from ya girl, BB
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the story, but I do own the characters. This is also un-beta'd, so any and all mistakes are mine.

In the middle of the night he realized Betty had inched away from him and was laying on the edge of the bed, and Jughead couldn’t figure out if he was upset about it or if it felt sort of domestic.

He realized it was both.

When he woke up that morning, her back was pressed against his and their legs were intertwined and he was glad he was facing away from her because it would be very embarrassing if she could feel what he was feeling.

He let himself pretend to be asleep for a little while longer before turning over and kissing the back of her head. She tensed up and Jughead instantly regretted it. 

_We’re working on emotional availability, remember?_

“Did you sleep okay?” he whispered. The tapestry was draped down over the window and Jughead couldn’t really tell what time it was. “What time is it?”

“It’s close to eight,” Betty replied. She tired around so he was facing him, and Jughead tucked his hands under his chin. “I slept well. Only flipped out like, once,” she admitted.

Jughead chanced physical affection again and touched her cheek with a featherlight touch. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I was right here.”

She didn’t reply so Jughead decided to drop the subject. He was starting to realize that post-Archie, she was easily spooked. She ran away at much less, and Jughead was not going to jeopardize the opportunity to spend every second in her presence for the rest of his stay.

Even though she looked absolutely perfect in the light that was peaking through some of the more threadbare parts of the tapestry.

“What time do people start arriving today?” he asked instead. 

She smiled and grabbed his hand with hers and said, “well Cher is coming around eleven, and Sweet Pea and Veronica will get there a little later. I think they’re hooking up actually and just haven’t told me.”

“Sweet Pea, the one who stays over here all the time and calls your parents ‘mom’ and ‘dad?””

“The one and only. I think you’ll actually like him, we haven’t so much as kissed. Though we are fairly affectionate. He has a tendency to just pick me up and throw me around like I’m a rag doll. Only this one time he tried to throw me over his shoulder and I slipped a bit and hit my head really hard. He bought me whatever I wanted for a week after that.”

“I think I remember you telling me that a guy was paying for whatever your heart desired at one point,” Jughead laughed. Then he asked, “can you hand me my phone?”

She unplugged his phone from where it sat on her desk and handed it to him. He unlocked it and opened his messages. Four days later and there was still no text from his mom, but his dad had sent him a gif of a turkey doing a dance on a platter which Jughead found rather endearing.

“It’s Thanksgiving,” he said with some surprise in his voice.

“Dude, we’ve literally been making pies for two days straight and my mom yelled at us about coming into the kitchen last night. How did you forget?”

_Because the majority of the blood is still in my dick, Betty. Jeez._

_“Anyway,”_ he stressed, “you never officially answered about what time are your lovely friends coming over? I can’t wait to meet them.” Betty looked at him with a very conflicted expression on her face, and then slowly moved in so she was laying with her head pressed against his chest. He rested his chin on top of the crown of her head and held his breath. It was like a butterfly landing on you. All you wanted to do was admire it with excitement, but instead had to admire its beauty with stillness and silence.

“As I said before… Cherry will be here around eleven to take us to her house for breakfast, and Pea and Veronica will meet us there.”

“Hold on,” Jughead said after a moment. “You guys are, C, B, V, and… Pea?”

Betty shuddered in disgust. “Yeah, we know.”

“Heh heh,” Jughead said impishly, “you said we.”

“You can get out of my bed now,” Betty said, pulling back to look at him.

He was not having that. “Uh-uh, girl, get you ass back over here until we have to go deal with Cheryl.” 

They stayed in bed for the next hour or so until Betty got a text from Cheryl saying she’d be there in forty-five minutes. Jughead groaned in pure annoyance as he was far too content to lay in bed talking to Betty all day. Instead he had to deal with Cheryl prior to any coffee or food.

Except when Cheryl rolled up forty-nine minutes later, there were two steaming to-go mugs full of coffee in the cupholder of her Range Rover, and an already lit joint in her hand.

“Good morning, Betty Boop,” she said and handed Betty one of the cups of coffee. She looked over at Jughead and said, “Juggie,” with a sly smile, and passed him the joint and the other cup of coffee. “Happy Thanksgiving, my loves!”

“You too, Cher,” Betty said, and leaned between the two front seats to kiss her cousin on the cheek. 

“Yes Cheryl,” Jughead said with a kiss to Cheryl’s cheek and an inhale of the joint, “don’t tell Betty, but I'm more thankful for you than her currently.” He turned around so he could wink at Betty from the front seat, but saw that she was looking down at her phone and a slightly crestfallen look to her previously cheerful face.

_You’re a fucking idiot, Jones._

“Yes, yes, I know,” Cheryl said and placed her hand on Jughead’s shoulder. She pinched harm and Jughead didn’t flinch or cry out, realizing he probably deserved it. Cheryl honked the horn, rolled down her window and yelled out of it, “see you later Auntie Alice, Uncle Hal!” and then sped off and down the dirt driveway. 

The ride to Cheryl’s house was absent of talking, the only noise being the soft guitar notes of Bon Iver’s discography in the background. Jughead sipped his coffee and passed the joint back and forth with Betty. He wished that he could reach one arm back and stroke her leg, but knew that it would probably set them back fifty steps, rather than the twenty that kissing Cheryl had.

From what Jughead understood about Betty and Cheryl’s relationship, he knew that Betty and Cheryl would die for each other, but Betty still felt somehow inferior to Cheryl. Jughead didn’t even try to understand it, and he figured she didn’t want to hear, “well I think you’re perfect,” from anyone.

Even if the sentiment rang true.

Jughead had forgotten Cheryl’s economic stance until they pulled up to her _gigantic_ house that overlooked the beach on the north side of the island. Where the waves by Betty’s house were calm and tranquil, these waves crashed up against the side of a huge cliff, and at the top of that cliff was Cheryl’s house.

For old world money and an island whose current architecture hailed from the nineteenth century, Cheryl’s house seemed unreal. It was entirely glass and bright white wood and Jughead could see all the way through her house and out to the water from where he sat in the passenger seat of the car.

“Cheryl your house didn’t look like this growing up,” Jughead said. “Actually did you even live here growing up?”

She shook her head and backed her car into a parking spot. “No, we only moved here a year or two ago, right Betty? Before that we lived on the other side of the island. Daddy built this with the intention to rent it to rich summer people, but loved it so much that we moved in.” She flung her door open and they all got out. 

While Jughead and Cheryl got out, Betty was pulled out by a guy who looked like he could kill Jughead with one punch. His protective instincts kicked in without him even realizing it, and he slammed the door shut hard. He leaned agains the door and scowled at the scene before him.

“Relax,” Cheryl whispered. “That’s Sweet Pea.”

 _“That’s Sweet Pea?!”_ Jughead asked, slightly panicked. When Betty said the guy could throw her around, he didn’t think she _really_ meant it. Only he had picked her up and was swinging her around in a circle, and Jughead could see the biggest smile on both of their faces.

He tried not to be jealous, but it was hard.

“Put me down,” Betty squealed. Sweet Pea slowed and placed her on the ground, putting his hands on her hips and steadying her.

 _Mine,_ Jughead thought without warning. 

“Pea,” Betty said, dragging him over to Jughead by the hand, “this is Jughead! Juggie, this is Sweet Pea.” Before Jughead had a chance to make a comment about Betty’s use of nicknames, Sweet Pea was pulling him into a bro hug.

“Hey man! Happy Thanksgiving! I’m so glad you’re here, you have no idea. There is a serious need for testosterone in this group, and when Betty told me you were coming, I think I got more excited than she was,” Sweet Pea said. By the middle of his sentence, he had stepped back and slung his arm over Betty’s shoulder and was smiling at Jughead with such a genuine smile that he felt bad for being so jealous thirty seconds before.

“Now that Pea’s said what _he’s_ grateful for this year,” Betty said, “can we go inside? It’s cold and I’m hungry and Cheryl promised Bloody Mary’s.”

“Yes, princess Betty,” Sweet Pea said. He held out his elbow and Betty linked her’s through it. 

“Calm down,” Cheryl said, and linked her own arm through Jughead’s. “If there is anyone who Betty considers family here, it’s Sweet Pea.”

Jughead nodded, but didn’t feel much better about the situation. Yes, he felt guilty about reacting in such a protective and dickish way over their interaction, but on the flip side, he also felt guilty for being so jealous of their friendship. He knew that he wanted to be more than Betty’s best friend, but he also knew that he would have a hard time going back to being _just_ that when he left. 

And he knew she’d have Sweet Pea to lean on when he did leave. 

And even though she said that their relationship was platonic, bordering on familial, Jughead couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the way Betty was with Sweet Pea as she was with Jughead.

And they all knew how easily things like familial-esque relationships could change with Betty Cooper.

Upon entering Cheryl’s house, Jughead was met with a very tiny, very enthusiastic brunette who practically jumped him and was talking a million miles a minute about how excited she was to meet him.

“Jughead! I am so excited you’re here. Do you want a Bloody Mary or a mimosa? I’d say we could start taking shots, but Betty insists that we wait until after 2:30pm to start drinking straight alcohol. Anyway, I’m so happy to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you from Betty _and_ Cheryl!”

“How does such a small person have this much energy?” Sweet Pea mused, and pulled Veronica off of them. Jughead noticed the way he acted with her, like she was fragile and needed protecting at all costs. He also looked at her like she hung the sun, the moon and the stars and every planet in between, and Jughead decided he was no longer jealous of Sweet Pea.

Because Jughead looked at Betty the same way the same way as Sweet Pea was looking at Veronica.

Cheryl brought out an insanely large pitcher of Bloody Mary’s and had a literal toppings bar set up on her kitchen counter. Jughead attached himself to Betty by placing his hand on the small of her back and walked her over to where everything was set up. There wasn’t much by means of food considering the massive meal they were slated to have later, but there was enough to not get them considerably drunk before noon.

“How are you?” Betty whispered. Her friends had walked over to the couches that faced the water, and Jughead looked down at the beautiful girl standing next to him.

“Overwhelmed,” Jughead said, choosing not to lie. The whole ten minutes that it took to get them out of the car and into Cheryl’s house was almost more than he could handle, but standing next to Betty grounded him in ways that he wasn’t aware he needed.

“I agree,” she said, and put two huge pickles in her drink. “I wish we just had ignored Cheryl’s text and stayed in bed until it was time for dinner, but it’s a tradition that the four of us started a few years ago. Only they didn’t involve Bloody Mary’s when we were thirteen.”

Jughead looked over at here as she wrapped her lips around the straw she had placed in her drink and couldn’t help himself and kissed the side of her head. He grabbed his drink and a huge plate of bacon and a few waffles and went to sit next to Sweet Pea.

“So you’ve known Betty your whole life?” he asked. Jughead nodded and popped three pieces of bacon into his mouth at once.

“Yep. My mom dated her uncle and then had a separate affair with him and now her mom doesn’t talk to her brother.”

Sweet Pea choked on his drink and Jughead slapped him hard on the back. 

“That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard,” Sweet Pea said with a laugh. 

They spent the rest of the morning lounging in Cheryl’s living room and waiting until it was time to go back to Betty’s at 3:30. Cheryl let Sweet Pea drive her Range Rover so he and Jughead could sit in the front while the girls sat close to each other in the back.

Sweet Pea pulled out of Cheryl’s driveway at breakneck speed and tore down the dirt road. He came to a surprisingly slow and normal stop at the top of the drive and then sped back up as soon as all four wheels touched the asphalt. 

Jughead felt something nudging his arm and looked down to find Betty’s cute feet propped against the center console. Jughead took this as an invitation to casually place his hand on her shin and gently brush the strip of skin between the bottom of her leggings and the top of her socks with her thumb. 

She jumped at the initial contact, so Jughead stoped all movement and waiting for a sign that what he was doing was okay. Her foot twitched with a purpose and Jughead resumed rubbing his thumb across the unbelievably stop strip of skin.

“So the best part of Thanksgiving at Betty’s is when Alice gets super drunk and tries to fight Cheryl’s mom,” Veronica was explaining to him.

“That is _not_ a good part of Thanksgiving,” Betty and Cheryl snapped at the same time. It caused the whole car to erupt in laughter and Betty tried to pull her foot away from Jughead’s grasp, but he tightened his grip on her ankle and didn’t let her go. 

They pulled up to Betty’s house, and there were about six new cars in the driveway. Sweet Pea pulled the car around so it was parked by the little house and next to Jughead’s Jeep.

“Who the hell are all of these people?” Jughead asked as they got out of the car. He met Betty as he was getting out and put his arm around her. The five of them stared at the house, unsure of what to do.

“Polly has a friend from school here who brought their own car I think? And dad has like two or three friends from work, but otherwise I have no idea…” Betty trailed off. Jughead shrugged his shoulders and then turned to Cheryl.

“So do you guys go back at the end of the night? Or do you stay over here?”

“We usually stay. My parents have a driver that picks them up since they _will_ get hammered, and honestly don’t even realize that we’ve snuck off before pie.”

Jughead spun Betty around so she was right in front of him, eyes wide and yelled, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN _BEFORE_ PIE?”

* * *

Honestly, Cheryl could go to hell.

First she made Betty feel like an idiot in front of Jughead when she provided him with coffee when she couldn’t, and then she said that they were going to be leaving before pie.

Which, they were. 

But what Jughead didn’t know was that this was another tradition, so of course, Betty was prepared.

“First of all, you know me well enough to know yelling at me is not the answer,” she said. “Second of all, yes. We do leave before pie. Because I made you make two extra pies yesterday so that the five of us could just eat out of the pie tin with big spoons and watch movies.”

A worried look jumped across Jughead’s face and Betty was honestly way too happy about how easily it was to effect him. 

She didn’t, however, like how easy it was for him to effect her.

“We need to go inside now kids,” Cheryl said with a wink.

“I am three years older than you,” Jughead said.

Betty smiled at her friends and then looked up and smiled at Jughead who was smiling at them too. They stopped at the front door and took a collective inhale before pushing open the heavy front door.

There were like, ten too many people at Thanksgiving that year. There were the obvious: Betty, her parents, Polly and Polly’s friend. Cheryl and her parents and then Sweet Pea, Jug and Veronica. That’s all there shouldn’t have been.

Except a couple from her mom’s book club whose kids were off island for Thanksgiving were sitting on the daybed next to a different couple that worked with her dad. They were talking to her aunt and uncle, who had invited a family of three, one of which was a little girl who was oggling Sweet Pea and Jughead and all three of the girls felt very uncomfortable. 

However, there were three people who Betty was honestly shocked and excited to see.

“Toni!” Jughead half yelled when they entered the room. Sitting at the counter was a very small girl with very pink hair who had jumped into Jughead’s arms as soon as he walked into the room.

_Okay, chill the fuck out._

“Juggie!” Toni squealed back. Betty felt herself instinctually step forward, but found herself being held back by Sweet Pea, who had stepped next to and in front of her when she wasn’t paying attention.

“Cool it, princess,” he muttered. 

Betty exhaled harshly but decided not to push it. Sweet Pea knew about the feelings she was developing for Jughead, and was probably (definitely) saving her from public humiliation and her parents asking Jughead to leave the property.

She was seventeen after all.

The first morning that Jughead was there, Betty had snuck out before he had awoken to sit on the porch swing with a mug of coffee and a plan to call Sweet Pea.

_He picked up after three rings, and sounded wildly out of breath when it happened._

_“What’s wrong?” he panted._

_“What makes you think something is wrong?” Betty asked, even though she knew the answer._

_“You’re not at school. You’re not even on your way to school. You’re at home, probably drinking coffee on the porch swing because it’s kind of nice out.”_

_“Fuck you,” Betty said, annoyed that he knew her so well, and that she had her locations shared with him._

_“Yeah whatever. What’s wrong?”_

_“Why are you out of breath?”_

_“It’s Tuesday, princess. I’m at the gym.”_

_“Then why did you pick up?”_

_“Dude if you don’t fucking start talking I really_ will _hang up.”_

_She paused. “He’s in my bed,” Betty whispered._

_“I’ll kill him,” Sweet Pea growled._

_“No, no,” she said. “I asked him to come into my bed.”_

_There was silence before Sweet Pea said, “I don’t see the problem here…”_

_“What if he like… you know… gets upset and tries to run or leave and what if I fucked it up forever?! I’m not supposed to feel like this at all! There were supposed to be no feelings, Pea. But here I am, day one, asking him to get in my bed at three in the morning because I had a nightmare!”_

_“Breathe. First of all,” Sweet Pea said sternly. He waited for her to actually inhale a few times before continuing. “Did he come willingly to your bed?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Is he still there?”_

_“I mean he was asleep when I stepped out to get coffee and call you.”_

_“Wait you really are drinking coffee on the porch swing while he’s asleep in your bed?”_

_“So not helping!” she whisper shrieked._

_“Moving on,” he said. “Okay, here’s the thing Betty. He’s gonna run, or he’s not. But what’s not going to help is if you aren’t there when he wakes up. And if you run, he will too. Or once again, he won’t. But you won’t know if you’re outside on the other side of the house on the phone with me.”_

_Halfway though his speech, Betty stood up and walked back over to her room. When she got there, she pressed her ear to the door and couldn’t hear anything._

_“Okay,” she breathed. “I’m standing back at my door again.”_

_“Pull yourself together, kid,” he said in a loving yet joking tone. “Are you sure nothing happened though?” he asked slyly, and Betty had to convince herself that she was afraid of her friend running back to New York, not someone she was interested in._

_“No. It’s really not like that. He’s in my room, asleep and not bothering anyone, okay?”_

_“If you believe that I believe that…” he said in the same tone. “Anyway, I love you. Call me if you need anything.”_

_“Yeah, okay. I love you too,” Betty said and hung up the phone. She took a deep breath and then walked the two steps between where she stood and the door to the treehouse._

Sweet Pea was the first person to know about her _maybe_ feelings for Jughead. He knew it before she did. Even if she was the one calling him at the ass-crack of dawn not two days before professing a love she didn’t know she had, and that she was determined to keep boxed away.

No matter how hard it wanted to break free.

Back in real life, in the present, Betty watched in slow-motion as Jughead leaned down and kissed Toni on the cheek. The world was fuzzy and out of focus and there was blood pounding in her ears and she wanted to run away.

But she couldn’t. 

“Toni, this is Betty, whose house this is, Cheryl, her cousin, and Veronica and Sweet Pea, her best friends,” Betty heard Jughead say. It was strange to hear him refer to everything _through _her. But he did.__

__It was confusing._ _

__“You guys, this is Toni, Joaquin and Fangs. They all live on the other side of the island. Toni’s mom and my dad dated each other when they lived off island, and I guess Betty, your mom knows Toni’s family.”_ _

__“This feels all too similar to you and Betty’s story…” Cheryl said through tight lips and narrowed eyes. But Betty could tell she was checking out the pink haired girl._ _

__Betty still wanted to throw up._ _

__“True,” Toni said, which sparked Betty’s curiosity. “Only, I hated Jughead until three years ago when our parents split up and we didn’t have to see each other. Now, he’s like my little brother.”_ _

__“Little?” Sweet Pea asked with a snort._ _

__“She’s a year and a half older,” Jughead said._ _

__“So you can buy booze?” Cheryl asked. She didn’t wait for an answer before saying, “excellent. I’m Cheryl Blossom. Betty’s cousin.”_ _

__“She knows,” Sweet Pea stage whispered and nudged her with his arm. They all laughed at this, and Betty had to plaster a fake smile on her face and bounce her shoulders up and down in hopes that no one saw through the gut-wrenching feeling inside._ _

__Because if anyone knew how easy it was to catch feelings for someone who was once intertwined with a member of your family, it was Betty._ _

__And Toni was beautiful._ _

__And Betty had to leave the room._ _

__“Excuse me for a moment. It was great to meet you all. I’ll be right back,” she said so fast that no one had a moment to stop her or really gather what was going on._ _

__Down in her room, she locked the door and leaned her back against it. She felt too hot and suffocated in her wool sweater and needed to get out of it as fast as she could. She pulled the rough fabric off of her body, and stood in the cool room in just a sports bra as she waited for her heart rate to come back down._ _

__She took off her socks and shoes and let her toes and the balls of her feet breathe. She counted her breaths and her seconds and when none of that worked she pulled the half-packed bowl from the night before out of her desk drawer and took the biggest hit she could possibly take._ _

__She held it until her lungs hurt and she felt lightheaded but didn’t know if it was from the effect of the weed or for holding her breath for as long as she could. When she exhaled, a small smile danced across her face and she laughed. She laughed so hard that tears started to stream down her face and had another moment of questioning if she was laughing or crying._ _

__When he first got to the compound, Betty told herself she didn’t have feelings for Jughead. She told herself that the love she felt for him was platonic at most, and a slight crush at best. She told herself that she wasn’t going to get involved with anyone emotionally ever again. She told herself that there was nothing there._ _

__Except now she found herself standing half-naked, half-laughing and half-crying at her own family’s Thanksgiving._ _

__There was a saying about crying at one’s own party though. And if the shoe fits…_ _

__She put on her nicest oversized knit sweater, pulled on a nicer pair of leggings and turned to the mirror to put eye-drops in her eyes and dab some concealer under her eyes._ _

__Taking one more deep breath, she turned to the door, unlocked it and yanked it open, fully prepared to step outside and go back into the house._ _

__Only she was blocked._ _

__Blocked by _him_._ _

__“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “You ran out of there like a bat out of hell. Are you okay?”_ _

___I love you. And I shouldn’t. Because you’re you. And I’m me. And, well, fuck._ _ _

__“Yeah, I was just really overheating and overwhelmed and knew we still had some weed down here, and that I could change in peace.”_ _

__Jughead, who clearly knew her very well, wasn’t buying this at all._ _

__“Betty. I don’t know how to say what I want to say without shit hitting the fan. So I’m going to say what I can, alright? And I need you to listen.”_ _

__Betty nodded and looked up at him. His hair was falling in thick, dark curls around his forehead and ears and Betty couldn’t resist brushing them back from his face. He caught her hand and intertwined their fingers._ _

__“I have _absolutely_ no feelings for Toni whatsoever.” _ _

__He was silent, and Betty knew that he knew that was all he had to say._ _

__“Okay,” she said with a nod._ _

__“Okay,” he said back, and kissed the inside of her palm. “Now come on. I told your mom you were just changing and that’s why you weren’t upstairs. Cheryl said she’d distract her so when you go and say hello, she doesn’t yell.”_ _

___I love you._ _ _

__“Thank you,” she whispered._ _

__“Anything,” he replied and dropped her hand. He opened the door to the house for her and led her inside._ _

__Betty walked up to the rest of the group and officially introduced herself to Fangs, Joaquin and Toni. The latter seemed to have immersed herself in all things Cheryl Blossom, and Betty could see that Cheryl wasn’t complaining. Jughead and Sweet Pea were talking to Fangs and Joaquin, so Betty and Veronica were sitting on the daybed that was once occupied by two random couples who Betty still hadn’t met._ _

__“How you holding up?” Veronica asked and took a sip of her “water with lime,” which was really just a tequila soda._ _

__“Well,” Betty said and took a sip of her own, “I officially admit that I love him. Am I _offically_ ready to do anything about it yet? Abso-fucking-lutely not.”_ _

__“Hmm,” Veronica said. “Honestly, I think it’s good. Both admitting to yourself but not doing anything about it? You _just_ left hell, and your heart needs time to heal. Even if it thinks it’s ready.” _ _

__Betty said nothing, knowing she was right but also in awe of her wisdom._ _

__“Besides, you’re letting him sleep in your bed, so that counts for something,” she said casually._ _

__Betty’s head snapped up. “How do you know he’s sleeping in my bed?”_ _

__“What?” Veronica asked._ _

__“How do you know he’s sleeping in my bed?” Betty asked again._ _

__Then it hit her._ _

__“Oh my god! You _are_ sleeping with Sweet Pea. Oh my god! He wasn’t working out Tuesday morning… he was… fucking… but he… answered… but…” Betty couldn’t wrap her head around the situation, and did the only thing that she could think to do._ _

__She abruptly stood up and walked over to Sweet Pea. “Hey!” she said loudly. It wasn’t loud enough for the rest of the room to hear, but it was definitely loud enough to get the attention of the group of people that she was with. “If you ever answer the phone mid-fuck with my best friend ever again and then proceed to talk to me for twenty minutes, I will personally come over and fuck you up!”_ _

__“What the hell! How do you… Veronica!” Sweet Pea groaned._ _

__“Don’t change the subject!” Betty snapped._ _

__“I don’t understand why you’re mad!” Sweet Pea hissed._ _

__“Because I know the importance of orgasms. And if the next person I’m with _ever_ answered the phone to talk to you about Veronica when he’s balls deep, I’d expect Veronica to kill him too!”_ _

__“How do you know the next person you’re going to be with isn’t a lady?” Toni asked. Betty was too pissed at Sweet Pea to even laugh at the question and come up with a witty answer._ _

__Instead she just said, “Veronica and I already made out for like an hour once to see if we were romantic soulmates. Sadly, we’re not. Just soul sisters.”_ _

__“What the fuck is it with you and family?” Betty heard Sweet Pea mutter and she slapped him hard across the chest._ _

__Jughead, who Betty completely forgot was there asked, “you made out with Veronica? When?”_ _

__“Recently,” Veronica said with a smirk and a wink, and Betty watched as both Jughead and Sweet Pea tried to discreetly adjust their pants._ _

___Disgusting. But interesting. But disgusting._ _ _

__Before the “Tell Us Everything About Making Out With Veronica,” conversation could start, they were called to dinner by Betty’s mother. Anyone under the age of twenty-three, including the weird little girl named Lucy, was stationed at the picnic table that had been brought inside from the upstairs porch._ _

__“Picnic table” was all Jughead said as he piled stuffing onto his plate. Betty smiled at him and bumped his hip with her own. They were finally at the front of the food line, and were marveling at how much had been made. There was a thirty-pound turkey, a ham, two trays of stuffing, collard greens, Mac and cheese, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green beans and more. There was also a gravy boat the size of the Bloody Mary pitcher at the very end of the table._ _

__“You made out with Veronica,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement that he was waiting to be refuted._ _

__“Sure did,” she said back._ _

__He moved down the line and continued adding more to his plate. Then he hummed and asked, “so if everyone is sleeping here tonight, excluding Toni, Joaquin and Fangs of course, where are they sleeping?”_ _

__“Sweet Pea sleeps in your room, which is honestly his, and me, Veronica and Cheryl would all squeeze into mine,” she answered. She held her breath and watched him measure his words carefully._ _

__“Well, I’ve only slept in my bed once, so if Sweet Pea and Veronica want to take my room…” he trailed off._ _

__Betty smiled, having already come up with this plan she said, “yeah, we can do that. And Cheryl can stay in the other room in the little house as Polly and her friend will be in her room and the guest room in here.”_ _

__Jughead shrugged noncommittally and asked, “so does that mean I’ll sleep in your room?”_ _

__Betty took a few moments and reveled in the waves of anticipation that rolled off of him. “Would you like that?”_ _

__There was no pause before he said, “I planned on it from the second I woke up.”_ _

__Betty allowed herself to blush and hoped that she wasn’t reading things that weren’t really there. There was no way that he didn’t feel something for her, right? He was literally offering to sleep in her bed again and again, assuring her that he didn’t have feelings for another girl, always finding new ways to touch her and standing over her protectively at the grocery store._ _

__The only problem was her twisted view of love and how it was given out and received. With Archie, it started out as a crush that turned into infatuation that turned into an obsession that turned into abuse. Betty knew this, however, she was only recently able to identify it._ _

__She didn’t know where loved started or stopped or where it ended and then began. Which meant she didn’t know what Jughead’s readiness to spend time with her meant. It could just be friendship that was heightened by the situation of actually getting to be with each other. He could just be trying to get into her pants. He could think that he liked her, make a move, realize that he didn’t, and never speak to her again._ _

__So she was left with doing the same thing that she had been doing the past few days and hoping that she would be able to breathe when he left._ _

__They sat basically on top of each other at dinner and whispered jokes in each others ears about the look that the little girl was giving him. When they had all eaten way too much food, Betty and Jughead remembered that they had been put on dish duty, and enlisted Sweet Pea and Toni to help them, each picking a friend to force into the after dinner activity._ _

__After what felt like an hour, they all left and went to the little house where Betty had stashed two pies for them to eat. There were three extra people there, however, but Toni ended up pulling an entire pan of apple crumble out of the little house fridge that had Betty swooning._ _

__By ten, everyone but Betty’s parents, Polly and her friend had left. Sweet Pea, Veronica and Cheryl were all laying droopy eyed on the couch when Cheryl said, “Betty, if for some reason your mom comes looking for you, I’ll tell her you’re in my room, and that you gave Sweet Pea his own room and…” but Betty cut her off._ _

__“I’ll handle it if something comes up.” She stood up and hugged her three closest friends, and kissed each of them on the cheek. Jughead placed his hand on her lower back and hugged everyone too, thanking Cheryl for an amazing day and promising to finish the movie in the morning._ _

__They shut the door quietly behind them and started to walk back over to her room._ _

__“I’m going to change and meet you over there,” Jughead said quietly. He squeezed her hand and then turned around, quickly peaking his head into the little house to let Pea know that he was changing and that he’d be done in five minutes. Betty continued to walk to her room, and did the same. She put on her softest and cutest pajamas and ducked inside to wash her face and brush her teeth._ _

__When she got back into her room, Jughead was already laying in bed. He was on his side facing the door, and his eyes were shut. They fluttered open when she shut the door quietly behind her._ _

__“Come here,” he murmured sleepily._ _

__“Are you summoning me to my own bed?” Betty asked with a giggle, but proceeded to walk in his direction anyway._ _

__“It’s ours,” he said with a slight smile. His eyes were still shut, but he was able to easily find her as she tucked herself under the covers and turned off the light._ _

__“Tomorrow morning, when everyone over there is awake, they’re going to come over here,” she whispered into his chest. She felt rather than heard him hum._ _

__“Another tradition?” Jughead asked._ _

__“Yeah. Only this year it’s Sweet Pea’s turn to bring down all of the coffee and Veronica has been tasked to bring the rest of the crumble and the big spoons.”_ _

__“That sounds nice,” Jughead said around a yawn. Betty stifled one of her own and started to succumb to the heaviness of her lids when Jughead spoke up again._ _

__“You,” he whispered against the top of her head._ _

__“Me?”_ _

__“Yeah, you. You’re what I’m thankful for,” he whispered._ _

__“It’s always you, too,” she said after a moment. Betty pulled her head back so their noses were touching. He ducked his head ever so slightly so his nose was brushing her cheek._ _

__“I’m not ready,” she said so quietly that if he hadn’t been as close as he was, Betty feared he wouldn’t have heard her._ _

__“I know,” he murmured. She was almost too tired to be shocked by his response but he continued. “I’m very okay with this until you are.”_ _

__“And what if,” she started, but he finished for her._ _

__“If you’re not ready until after Monday, then we go from there.” It was so simple. So easy. So obvious._ _

__She nodded and he kissed her forehead. Jughead rolled onto his back and pulled her onto his chest and Betty had only one thought in mind as she was falling asleep._ _

___It will be before Monday._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think!
> 
> Let me know!
> 
> We're seeing some emotion from Betty, woo!!
> 
> Come tumble with me @blackberry-beee
> 
> Overture on Tuesday, next the compound chap on Thursday!
> 
> xx  
> BB


	6. friday– coffee in the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So he was pretty fucking sure he wasn’t going to be able to spend the rest of his time there _not_ kissing Betty. Of course he was going to respect her boundaries and her wants and needs, but _damn,_ if she wasn’t the most perfect person he had ever met.
> 
> She was, however, really fucking damaged. He wasn’t holding that or anything against her. In fact, he was reminding himself of that each time he wanted to pull her right against him and show her _every single way_ he wanted to take care of her.
> 
> But no, instead he laid in bed with her best guy friend and tried not to put his heart out to him. 
> 
> He failed, obviously.
> 
> “So you’re in love with Betty, right?” Sweet Pea asked. “Like I’m not making that up?”
> 
> “Oh no, you’re spot on. That girl is my fucking soul mate. She has been since the day I met her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off- thank you to tumblr user @wonderfulkris for reminding me that I didn't post on Thursday. I honestly thought all day yesterday was WEDNESDAY so that I had time to finish writing/editing. I was WRONG.
> 
> Second- as always, I love you !
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the story. This is in-beta'd so all mistakes are mine

Betty woke up with Jughead’s arm slung across her waist, and it was then that she realized that he was her personal space heater. There was no way his body temperature was less than 98.6 degrees and she would have loved it if she hadn’t already cranked the heat to 72 degrees.

“Get off of me,” she grumbled and pushed his arm aside. “You’re too fucking hot.”

“I know you find me attractive, girl. But there was no need to be so loud.”

“Shut up and move your arm, you space heater,” she groaned. “Actually wait, when the fuck did you wake up?”

“You _snore_ Betty Cooper. Loudly and aggressively I might add. I’ve been awake for twenty minutes.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because you look adorable when you sleep.”

“That’s creepy,” Betty said, trying to hide her smile. “But please get off of me so I can go pee.”

After poking her in the side a few times, Betty was finally set free from Jughead’s steaming grasp. 

Steaming, like his temperature was hot.

Or at least, that was what she was telling herself.

She stood up and walked outside and over to the bathroom. Then she fired of a text to Sweet Pea.

 **Betty Cooper-9:34am:** we’re up.

 **Sweet Pea-9:36am:** on our way.

She brushed her teeth and washed her face and did all of the things she needed to do in order to feel like a semi-functioning person before drinking a cup of coffee. 

_I really need a fucking shower,_ she thought.

When she got back into her room, Veronica, Sweet Pea and Cheryl were all sitting on her bed. Jughead was still lying down, and on top of him were Veronica’s legs.Cheryl was sitting in the same position, and Sweet Pea was next to Jughead. Betty climbed over his lap and settled herself halfway between each of her two best guy friends.

One of which she liked more than the other.

Except, she was really trying to convince herself otherwise.

“Good morning sunshine,” Veronica said, and handed her a scalding cup of coffee.

“Hmph,” was all Betty could mutter back as she had already brought the mug of coffee to her lips.

“She’s mad because I told her she snores,” Jughead said, and Betty whacked him in the arm with her free hand.

“I do not,” she said.

“Yes you do,” her friends said and then everyone but Betty was laughing. 

“Just pass me the fucking cobbler and the big spoon,” Betty grumbled, and placed the warm glass pan on top of her legs. She dug into the center of the cobbler and internally laughed at their faces.

Thirty seconds later, four other spoons joined hers, and the five of them at the rest of the gooey, cinnamon-y apples in silence.

“What are you guys going to do today?” Cheryl asked around a mouth full of cobbler.

“I’m gonna take him to Pop's,” Betty said, and her friend's eyes lit up with excitement. 

“He hasn’t been to Pop's yet?!” Veronica squealed.

“Nope,” Betty replied, popping the “p.”

“Who’s Pop?” Jughead asked skeptically.

“Not who,” Sweet Pea said. “What.”

“Okay then, what’s Pop's?”

“It’s the best bakery in the entire world. It makes all the other bakeries in New York look like Starbucks cake pops.”

“That’s a pretty high expectation,” Jughead said, poking Betty in the side again. “Why haven't we gone yet?” He asked in an accusatory tone. Betty rolled her eyes and placed her head on Sweet Pea’s shoulder and let out a big sigh.

“I was waiting until after Thanksgiving because Archie frequents the store and I didn’t want to run into him.”

There was a collective silence and Betty figured the subject had been dropped. Archie always went to go visit his mom in Chicago the morning after Thanksgiving. He took the first boat off on Friday morning and came back on the last boat Sunday night. 

Betty was actually the one to show Archie Pop's. It was one one of their first initial dates, and he suggested they get up early for a walk on the beach and then get breakfast. He asked her if she had any places in mind where she wanted to go, and she chose Pop's.

He instantly fell in love.

But everyone fell in love at Pop's.

She knew he wouldn’t be there, so she could successfully bring Jughead without being on edge or on guard. If she ran into any of her other flings/ex’s/anything in between, she could hand that.

But she didn’t really think she could handle Archie.

“What are you guys up to today?” Betty asked everyone else.

“I should probably spend time with my parents,” Cheryl said. Ever since her brother had died the year before, Cheryl and her parents had drifted apart. Cheryl blamed her father for not stopping Jason’s drug use, and her parents blamed her for “meddling.” It wasn’t exactly something Cheryl liked talking about, so Betty dropped the subject.

“And we’re going to go _not_ have sex,” Sweet Pea said with a wink.

“There’s no need for that,” Betty groaned. “Like I love that you guys are together, but I don’t need to know all of that.”

“Sorry, love,” Veronica said, reaching to squeeze Betty’s leg. “We’re still working on boundaries with this.”

That elicited a laugh from Betty, which made the rest of the group smile. Betty had always had these people, but she had never had them all together in this capacity. She was trying so hard not to feel love, or loved, or anything in between.

“Okay, I’m going to get in the shower. Cheryl? Veronica?”

“Coming,” they said at the same time, making Jughead snap his head up from his phone.

“Are you three showering together?” he asked, eyes wide.

“No, but we keep Betty company while she showers with the door shut,” Cheryl explained.

“Why haven’t I done that?” Jughead asked, looking at Betty.

“You haven’t asked?”

“Hmph,” he grunted.

The three girls heaved themselves out of Betty’s bed and walked out the door. They giggled as they overheard Sweet Pea yell “have fun!” as they walked from Betty’s room to the outdoor shower. Betty turned the water on high and then stepped out of view so she could undress.

“Are we out here so you can talk about your feelings?” Cheryl asked with a smile. Betty couldn’t see her, but she could hear the way her lips stretched across her teeth with a sly grin.

“No, we’re here to talk about… my _not_ feelings,” Betty said. She ducked her face under the water and let the scalding droplets coat her face as she tried to figure out what to say next.

“He assured me that he didn’t have feelings for Toni when I ran last night,” Betty said, poking her head out of the door so she could look at her friends. They made some unreadable expression and continued to stare at her.

“I don’t know what more you want from him, Betty,” Veronica said. “He’s basically told you he’s in love with you. I'm not sure that there’s anything else he can do.”

“He’s also leaving on Monday,” Betty argued, leaning her head back and rinsing out the shampoo.

“Betty you act like cell-phones aren’t a thing. And like you two haven't spent the last two years plus a lifetime communicating through talking on the phone,” Veronica replied.

“You’re just scared and trust us, we get it. We were there. But do we think we’d be sitting out here arguing on his behalf if he was a bad person?” Cheryl pointed out.

“It’s even about if he’s a good or bad person or we like each other or not. It’s about the entire fucking shit show that is and was my love life.”

No one had anything to say to that either.

Betty finished up and got dressed, and then sat next to the girls on the steps. She laid her toweled head on Veronica’s shoulder and enjoyed sitting in silence with them.

Two hours later, Jughead and Betty walked Sweet Pea, Cheryl and Veronica over to their car and hugged them goodbye.

“Is this the last time we’ll see you before you leave?” Veronica asked, standing on her tip-toes to hug Jughead good-bye.

“Ask the lady in charge,” Jughead said, throwing a wink in Betty’s direction.

“Everyone just hug me and then leave me alone until after I have a lemon bar from Pop's, alright,” she said tiredly. She felt tight and worried about everything having to do with Jughead still. She had too many feelings and needed a moment to contemplate her conversation with Jughead from the day before. 

_“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “You ran out of there like a bat out of hell. Are you okay?”_

_I love you. And I shouldn’t. Because you’re you. And I’m me. And, well, fuck._

_“Yeah, I was just really overheating and overwhelmed and knew we still had some weed down here, and that I could change in peace.”_

_Jughead, who clearly knew her very well, wasn’t buying this at all._

_“Betty. I don’t know how to say what I want to say without shit hitting the fan. So I’m going to say what I can, alright? And I need you to listen.”_

_Betty nodded and looked up at him. His hair was falling in thick, dark curls around his forehead and ears and Betty couldn’t resist brushing them back from his face. He caught her hand and intertwined their fingers._

_“I have absolutely no feelings for Toni whatsoever.”_

_He was silent, and Betty knew that he knew that was all he had to say._

_“Okay,” she said with a nod._

_“Okay,” he said back, and kissed the inside of her palm. “Now come on. I told your mom you were just changing and that’s why you weren’t upstairs. Cheryl said she’d distract her so when you go and say hello, she doesn’t yell.”_

_I love you._

_“Thank you,” she whispered._

_“Anything,” he replied and dropped her hand. He opened the door to the house for her and led her inside._

In her logical brain, she knew what that meant. She knew it meant that he had feelings for her, and her alone. But knowing that and acting on it were two different things. She knew what he wanted. She knew what she wanted. But he lived hundreds of miles away, and she was going to go to school no where near where he went.

In her logical brain, she knew that long distance relationships were possible. She knew that people lived through them and survived them and even thrived off of them. But she didn’t think she was that type of person. She didn’t think she was going to be able to do anything.

In her logical brain, she knew that Reggie would text her later tonight to ask if he could come over and she still had to deal with that.

So her logical brain wasn't allowing her to consider any other possibility that anything would ever happen.

But they weren’t going to go back to being just friends either.

After hugs goodbye had all been passed around with a promise to check back in later about maybe hanging out tomorrow, Betty and Jughead walked back over to her room before they left.

“Are we really making a big deal out of going to this bakery today, girl?”

“Jughead, you might leave me when you taste the food there and realize I hadn’t taken you yet,” Betty sighed, and flipped over so she could put her hair up into a bun. “What?” she asked when she stood up and saw him staring open mouthed at her. “What? Is there something on my face?”

He quickly closed his mouth and shook his head. “No, you’re fine. I was just imagining how good this place could really be.”

Betty squinted at him, not believing that that was what he was really thinking. But Jughead was much more level headed of a person than she was, or would ever be, so he really could have just been imagining how good the food could really be.

“Okay, I’m ready to go whenever you are. But no rush, obviously.”

“No, I’m ready,” he said, stood up and walked over to the door.

“Okay, great!” Betty said, clapping her hands excitedly. “I just have to go into the bank first to cash a check. It shouldn’t take long, and it's right across the street.” Jughead looked at her with a confused look and she explained, “Pop's is cash only.”

“Ah,” Jughead said, but the look on his face was still full of confusion, as if he’d never even heard of a place being cash only. “I’ll drive.”

They walked out to Jughead’s car and Betty poked her head into the house to tell her parents that they were going to Pop's and to text her with any requests. When they got to his Jeep, he opened up her door for her and Betty felt her brain do a loop-di-loop. 

He shut the door behind her and jogged around to his side. He turned the car on, and handed her the AUX cord. Betty plugged it into her phone and pulled up _good kid, m.A.A.d city._ Jughead looked at her, put the car into reverse, and then they were off.

* * *

So he was pretty fucking sure he wasn’t going to be able to spend the rest of his time there _not_ kissing Betty. Of course he was going to respect her boundaries and her wants and needs, but _damn,_ if she wasn’t the most perfect person he had ever met.

She was, however, really fucking damaged. He wasn’t holding that or anything against her. In fact, he was reminding himself of that each time he wanted to pull her right against him and show her _every single way_ he wanted to take care of her.

But no, instead he laid in bed with her best guy friend and tried not to put his heart out to him. 

He failed, obviously.

“So you’re in love with Betty, right?” Sweet Pea asked. “Like I’m not making that up?”

“Oh no, you’re spot on. That girl is my fucking soul mate. She has been since the day I met her.”

“I can tell,” Sweet Pea said with a smile. “Archie really fucked her up.”

“Yeah if I’m ever alone within a fifty-foot radius of him, I’m _going_ to kill him.”

“Make sure I’m there when you do, yeah?” Sweet Pea replied.

“You guys go to school together, don’t you?” Jughead asked.

“Sure do. _And_ we’re all going to Costa Rica together on a school trip December eighth.”

_Well this is news to me._

“Who’s we?” Jughead asked skeptically. He would think that Betty would tell him if she was leaving the fucking country in two weeks.

“Me, Ron, Cheryl, Betty, Reggie, Ethel, Josie, Kevin, Chuck, a couple other kids and Archie.”

“Betty is leaving the country with Archie.” It wasn’t a question. It was too stupid of a statement to be a question.

“Yeah she signed up after they broke up, knowing he was going. Honestly, I don’t even think she remembers signing up. It was like _right_ after. When she was the most fucked up.”

“Hmm,” Jughead said, not wanting to say what he was really thinking.

_ELIZABETH COOPER, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?_

Now though, they were in his car on their way to a bakery that everyone promised he’d be mad at her about not showing him sooner. He honestly doubted he could feel anymore anger currently, as she was leaving in two weeks _for_ two weeks to travel in a whole other country with her abusive ex-boyfriend.

Sure, other people would be there, but that currently was not the point.

She had put on _good kid, m.A.A.d city,_ and he wanted to bring up the Costa Rica thing with her, but he didn’t. She had the window slightly rolled down and was leaning her head against the glass. 

The contact of her skin, plus her slightly damp hair created a frosted halo effect around her face and Jughead wanted to reach over and stroke her cheek with his hand. He was so tired of wanting to touch her, and not just doing it, that he grabbed her hand instead, and pretending he didn’t feel her flinch when his fingers first grasped hers.

“Turn in here,” she said when they were pulling up to the bank.

“Yeah, I know where it is,” Jughead said snappily. He continued to look ahead, and really tried to hold onto Betty’s hand, but she ripped it out of his grasp. He sighed and pulled into the first parking spot he saw, and Betty was out of the car before he cut the engine.

_You are so fucking infuriating._

He sighed again, and realized he’d be doing a lot of that for the rest of the day, and followed her out of the car and into the bank. It was a small space, no bigger than the upstairs of Betty’s house. He found her quickly and walked over to where she was writing something on a deposit slip.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, hoping she could hear him.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she said with fake cheer, and looked up at him with eyes that were too sugary. Then she turned and got in line.

“I take my fucking sorry back then,” he grumbled, and walked behind her. The bank was packed that day, and the line was moving incredibly slowly. 

They were close to the front of the line when Jughead heard a vaguely familiar voice call out, “hey Betty.” 

Betty didn’t turn around. So neither did Jughead.

“Betty,” the voice repeated. Once again, Betty didn’t turn around, so Jughead stayed still, wanting so badly to look at who was trying to get her attention.

“Betty?” the person said one more time. Betty _still_ didn’t turn around.

But that time, Jughead did.

There, four people behind them, was Reggie. The guy she shouldn’t have been fucking (according to them both, but for different reasons). The grocery store guy. The “will I see you at school tomorrow,” guy.

She was ignoring him. 

Jughead made eye contact with Reggie and shrugged a “what are you gonna do?” shrug, and turned back to Betty, who had finally stepped up to a bank teller and handed him an orange lollipop. Jughead laughed and remembered their first conversation about candy.

“Ugh, I just don’t know what kind of sociopath even likes orange flavored candy,” Betty said, unwrapping a blue jolly rancher over FaceTime. Jughead paid far too much attention to the way she sucked on the candy than the things she was saying about it.

“Why sociopath, and not psychopath?” he asked, deciding he needed to pay attention to the conversation a bit more.

“Because sociopaths are much smarter than psychopaths. The most well thought out crimes are committed by sociopaths. They have a mission and act on it with precise movements. Psychopaths don’t really think, they act on emotion rather than calculation. Sociopaths have none. So yeah, psychopaths just do and then hope for the worst.”

“The worst?”

“Well, shit. They aren’t out here wishing for the best.”

Jughead let out a big doubled-over belly-laugh and said, “I like orange candy.”

Without any hesitation, Betty exclaimed, “that makes so much sense!”

With a laugh and a small smile, Jughead was brought back to the bank and took the orange lollipop from her outstretched hand and unwrapped it. He placed it in his mouth and sighed at the all too fake taste of orange hitting his tongue. 

Betty tugged on the sleeve of his jacket and tugged him towards the door. Jughead prayed that they would walk past Reggie and not even make eye contact.

But today wasn’t his day.

“Oh, hey Reg,” Betty said. “When did you get here?”

“Are you-” Reggie started, “are you fucking kidding me?”

“Watch it,” Jughead growled, taking a step closer to Reggie.

“I’m confused,” Betty said, looking between the two of them. “Also, if either of you get into a fight in this bank I’ll happily cut you both off forever.”

“I was calling your name,” Reggie said, breaking eye-contact with Jughead and looking at Betty. “Ask him.”

Betty looked up at Jughead with questioning eyes and raised a brow.

“I didn’t see you dude, sorry.”

“What, you looked right at me!”

“Reggie, if he didn’t see you, he didn’t see you,” Betty said slowly. “There’s no reason to… lie about something that basic.” Jughead stepped back behind Betty so she was fully in between them both. 

Then he shot Reggie a smirk.

“Come on, Betts,” Jughead said, throwing his arm over Betty’s shoulder. “It was nice to run into you again, Andy. Hope you had a nice holiday.” Then he led Betty out the door and smiled when she collapsed into a fit of giggles against his car door.

“Andy isn’t even close!” Betty wheezed out.

“Dude it was all I had to offer,” Jughead said with a smile. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rumpled and sat-on pack of cigarettes. He lit one and asked, “do we need to drive from here? Or can we walk?”

“It’s kinda misting, but I’m happy walking.”

Jughead held out his arm and said, “your chariot, milady.” Betty giggled and Jughead once again smiled.

They started walking and Jughead decided to just start digging himself in a hole now. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Betty stiffened next to him, and stumbled over one of her steps. Jughead tried to stop and see what had happened, but she kept moving. They walked in silence until they stepped up to a small and stout orange building with an awful blue awning. There were rusty circular metal tables and too small chairs next to each able outside. The mist and growing rain made the tables closest to the sidewalk slick with moisture. Betty pushed open the door and Jughead’s mouth started to water.

It smelled like every movie scene in a bakery that he’d ever seen. Sugar practically coated the walls, and Jughead decided he could walk over to the wall and lick it, and someone would scream, “and snozberries taste like snozberries!” in the voice of Gene Wilder. There were not one, not two, but three huge display cases with different cookies and brownies and muffins and everything in between pushed up against the glass.

There was also the distinct smell of fresh, bitter, coffee wafting through the shop. It cut through the sugar like a sharp knife and Jughead closed his eyes. On top of that, what was actually hanging on the walls were eclectic works of art. Some for sale, some not. There were no real lights, just huge skylights and string lights that looked like gummy bears strung across the ceiling. 

There were maroon vinyl booths on the wall opposite the display cases, and the floors were a black and white check that were obviously worn down and very coffee stained.

It was like the 1950s met an acid trip at Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

Actually, thinking about it, Jughead realized that the whole movie _was_ an acid trip...

There was different merchandise on shelves. Everything from stickers to beanies to sweatshirts to thongs, which Jughead thought was a weird thing to sell at a bakery.

But he didn’t care.

“I want one of everything,” he said. “I haven’t even tried anything and I am already upset.”

Betty smiled and nodded. “Oh I know.”

They walked up to the counter, and Betty greeted the barista. “Hi Ethel!”

“Hi Betty,” the girl said, equally as enthusiastic. “How are you?”

“I’m good! This is my friend Jughead, he’s staying with me for the holiday. This is his first time here.”

Jughead waved at the girl in front of him, but cringed slightly at the look she was giving him. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

The girl giggled. It wasn’t like Betty’s giggle, which sounded like actual bells. No, this was saturnine and fake and made Jughead inch closer to Betty.

“Where are you visiting from?” she asked.

“Uh, Brooklyn. Well, I’m in college at DC, but I’m from Brooklyn.”

“Oh that's nice! How do you know Betty?”

Jughead cocked an eyebrow at the girl, obviously looking for more ways to add to the conversation. 

“The internet,” he said curtly. It wasn't necessarily a lie. “Um, where’s your bathroom?”

“That door,” Betty said. 

“Thanks,” he said, starting to walk away. “Can you order me a latté?” Then he kissed her forehead and walked over to the bathroom. 

He stayed in the bathroom long after he finished washing his hands.

 **Betty Cooper- 1:08pm:** i’m outside now. have all of our stuff. you can come out of hiding.

Jughead laughed, unlocked the door and stepped out. He made a b-line out the front door and found Betty sitting at one of the tables outside. It wasn’t one of the ones close to the sidewalk, so the chairs and tables were still dry.

“Coffee in the rain?”

“You know me well.”

Jughead smiled at her answer and sat down next to her. He picked up the latté and took a sip. It was just as good as he could have ever imagined it being. Next, Betty pushed part of a lemon bar in his direction and then tucked her knees under her chin. She stared at him until he put the bar in his mouth, and audibly squealed at his audible moan of delight.

“Elizabeth, I ought to never speak to you again for hiding this from me,” he groaned. “This is magical.”

“Welcome to the Church of Pop’s,” she said.

“In lattés and lemon bars we trust!”

Betty laughed and Jughead laughed too and for the next hour they spent sampling lemon bars and cinnamon rolls and maple bacon scones and donuts and everything else Betty got for them, he forgot that he needed to talk to her about Costa Rica.

They finished their coffee and Betty ran back inside to grab the things her parents and Polly asked for, and Jughead made a mental note to shove a bunch of cash in one of her desk drawers later.

“Ready to head back? I need a nap,” Betty said and stifled a yawn.

“You _just_ drank a coffee,” Jughead pointed out.

“Actually, I had a hot chocolate…”

“I-”

But Betty cut him off before he could get upset about not trying the hot chocolate. “You said you needed to talk to me about something?”

Jughead took a deep breath in, and stayed silent until they were at the car. He opened the door for her and she got in. She placed the box on her lap and smiled at him as he closed the door behind her.

He got into the driver's seat and handed her the AUX. She plugged her phone in and picked up where they left off in the album. 

“Why didn't you tell me about Costa Rica?” Jughead blurted out. 

There was silence. Jughead shot her a glance and she was playing with her fingers. Finally she spoke.

“When I signed up for the trip, I did it to make Archie mad and get his attention. But then I got really excited for it. And then the thing with Reggie happened and then, I was just, still going. And had honestly forgotten about it until you just asked.”

Jughead wasn’t convinced. “So you’re saying you shelled out thousands of dollars to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, and then just, forgot about it?”

“That’s what happened in the beginning, yeah, but-”

“What’s the but, Betty?” His voice was slowly rising and he didn’t like it. He couldn’t tell what he was most upset about: that she hadn’t told him and he’d heard from Sweet Pea, or if her initial reasons for going were about her abusive ex.

Now she was yelling. “But then I got fucking excited to go because my best friends were going! And it’s somewhere, I don’t fucking know, tropical, in the middle of December!”

“But the initial reasons for you going were so fucking childish, Betty!”

“Last time I checked, I’ll be a child until March!” she said over him, but he continued.

“What, were you hoping he’d see you in a bathing suit and realize how much of an abusive fuck he was?”

Betty’s jaw snapped shut, and in that moment, Jughead knew he fucked up. They rode in silence for the rest of the drive back to her house. When they pulled into the parking space, Jughead turned off the car and said, “Betty.”

“Can you bring these inside to my family? I’m just going to go for a quick walk.”

“Do you want me to-”

“No, that's okay. Just bringing this in will be great.”

“Okay,” was all he was able to say. He was physically trying to move his head to meet her eyes, but couldn’t. She got out of the car still holding the box, and then left it on the seat so their hands didn’t have to touch. She gently shut the door behind her and started towards the beach. 

Jughead lay his head on the steering wheel and then pounded his fists into the side of his skull. Why hadn't he just accepted her answer of being excited to go with her friends and getting mixed up with Reggie as the truth? Why did he have to push it one further?

“Probably because she’s as emotionally available as a fucking cement wall, and you wanted to get _something_ out of her,” Jughead said to himself as he opened the door and walked into the house. He climbed the stairs and placed the box on the kitchen table, Alice, Hal and Polly nowhere to be found. 

“Huhhhhh,” Jughead groaned and walked to the fridge. He opened it and rooted around until he found an untouched tray of stuffing and the pitcher of gravy. He made himself a huge plate and put the gravy in a separate bowl, and then walked over to his house. 

He put the food in the fridge and then walked out to his room. He took off his boots and sat on the bed. He checked his phone to see if Betty had texted him.

She hadn’t.

Jughead groaned again and decided to put his phone on “Do Not Disturb” and set an alarm for seven-thirty. He pulled out his laptop and a few of his hard drives and worked on his final project for his film theory class.

When seven-thirty rolled around, Jughead had actually gotten more done than he thought he would, and fired off a text to Alice that he would come and grab left-overs later, and got back to work.

It was exactly eleven-twenty-seven when he looked at his phone and realized he hadn’t eaten. His stomach was trying to claw its way from the inside out, and Jughead sighed. He closed his computer, changed into his pajamas, and walked into his house to grab the bowl of stuffing that he had put there hours before. 

On his kitchen table was a full plate of food and a mug of what was once hot chocolate, but was now just chocolate. Jughead, too tired to do any detective work, put the food in the microwave and waited for two minutes. He opened his phone and saw that Alice had responded to his text with a simple “ok.”

There was still nothing from Betty.

 **Jughead Jones- 11:34pm:** i can’t see the light on in your room

 **Jughead Jones- 11:37pm:** hello?

 **Jughead Jones- 11:39pm:** elizabeth

 **Jughead Jones- 11:46pm:** i’m coming over

Jughead inhaled his food in record breaking time, chugged a huge glass of water, brushed his teeth, and turned all of the lights off. He decided to “pull a Betty,” and not wear his shoes over, see as he was essentially sneaking over.

He tiptoed across the stone path until he got to her room. He took a deep breath and put his hand on the handle. 

_Why am I so nervous?_

He shook his head and slowly opened the door. The room was slightly illuminated by the “Are You Still Watching,” message displayed across her laptop. Her eyes were closed, but she was moving a lot. Her legs thrashing and her head shifting uncomfortably on the pillows.

Jughead took the two steps between where he was standing and her bed. He closed her laptop and placed it on her desk. He wiped his damp toes on her rug and then climbed in next to her.

“Huh?” she asked sleepily.

“It’s just me,” Jughead said, sighing when she tucked her head under his waiting arm.

“I’m still upset,” she mumbled.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” he said, but got no response. She stilled against him and her breathing evened and Jughead was finally able to relax.

 _Nothing I said was wrong, Betty. But they way I said it was. And if you’re going to let me love you, you’re going to have to realize that sometimes I fuck up too,_ he thought.

And he was going to say that to her as soon as she would let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Come tumble with me and remind me when I've forgotten to post!! @blackberry-beee
> 
> Xx  
> BB


	7. saturday– tuna sashimi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it was because he had spent the last five nights tangled in Betty’s limbs and breathing against her skin at any chance he got that made him say what he said next. Maybe it because he was tired of dancing in circles around her. _Maybe_ it was because Polly had just come up the stairs and ruined their almost moment. Or maybe it was because he wanted Betty to hear it.
> 
> “I eat everything.”
> 
> The look of sheer embarrassment on Betty’s face combined with the smug look on Polly’s face made it all worth it to Jughead. 
> 
> “Then I guess it’s settled then,” Polly said, the smirk never leaving her face, “Betty will get oysters and Jughead will eat her oysters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Your girl is back with the compound and I LOVE this chapter!  
> A quick little refresher on what happened last chap since it's been 300000000 years since I updated:  
> Jughead and Betty get into a fight where he calls her a child for paying to go on a trip to Costa Rica to make Archie jealous.
> 
> That is all!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the story.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,” Jughead read over Betty’s shoulder at the breakfast table. 

They had woken up with limbs tangled, but facing opposite directions, but silently decided that it would be easier to talk about the night before with food and coffee in their system’s.

“Is it actually universally acknowledged?” he asked, leaning over and brushing his lips over her ear. He felt her shiver slightly and chanced more physicality, brushing his hand over her shoulder and up her next. She leaned into his touch and Jughead internally sighed, wanting more than anything to throw her over his shoulder and apologize to her in a less than gentlemanly way.

“I mean, I think it’s _all_ men are in want of a wife,” Betty said with a small smile and kept reading.

_We sure as hell do,_ he thought.

“So, what are we doing today?” Jughead asked, trying not to fully freak out about the fact that Betty hadn’t said anything to him about the night before. Maybe she was playing it cool like it didn’t matter. Or maybe she was simmering and would hit him when she got the chance.

Not that he wouldn’t like it.

“We’re going to go down to the docks and get stuff for dinner,” Betty said. “Well, not dinner. But we’re going to go down to the docks so I can buy half a pound of sashimi-grade tuna and slice it right there with some horseradish and soy sauce.”

_What the fuck?_

“How very…” he started, unsure of where to next go with his thought.

“Blossom of me?” 

“Will we be seeing your lovely friends there?” Jughead asked, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers.

“Probably not. Veronica hates fish and Cheryl hates her parents, so they usually avoid the docks as much as possible. As for me, well…” she trailed off, “I don’t know. I like being near the ocean, obviously. And I love to fish. So they tie together nicely.”

“And they tie together nicely,” Jughead repeated after her. She turned her head back slightly and smiled at him. “You’re smiling at me now, girl?”

“Don’t push your luck, Jones,” Betty warned. She stood up and brought her empty mug to the kitchen. He followed her and looked around to see where her parents were. No one was upstairs but them so when he met her at the counter, he trapped her body between him and the counter.

“Are we going to talk about yesterday?” he asked.

She shook her head and sighed. “No. I overreacted and would much rather spend the rest of your time here doing the rest of the things I have planned than argue about my life decisions.”

Jughead frowned. “I think it’s important, though.”

“Well,” she said and raised an eyebrow, “do you have anything, in particular, you want to say?”

Jughead tipped his head back and stared at the bootprints that littered the ceilings. When they first renovated it, it was just a summer house and was completely uninsulated. That being said, there were faint footprints still lingering across the boards in the ceilings. In some parts of the house, you could see the nails that held the roofing to the house poking through.

“I don’t want you to think that I think you’re a child,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to argue that paying thousands of dollars to go on a trip with your ex-boyfriend makes me very comfortable but…”

“I’m not _going_ with him,” Betty stressed. “Veronica and Pea and Cheryl will all be there. As well as like ten other kids. Sure my initial reasoning for going was to make him jealous and try to win him back, but now that’s obviously not the case,” she finished and looked up at him. 

His breath caught in the back of his throat. He was used to this, used to her flirting and her being in pain and her coming to him. But this felt different, she was inviting him to do something, he could feel it.

“What do you mean, ‘obviously not the case?’” Jughead breathed against her face. 

She closed her eyes for a moment and Jughead could see that through closed lids, she was trying to make a decision. 

Polly made it for them.

“Morning Jughead, Betty,” she said smugly and pushed passed them to get to the coffee maker. 

“Top of the morning to you too, Pol,” Jughead said sarcastically in return. Polly smirked at them and walked to the refrigerator to pull out the cream for her coffee. 

“You left the sugar out again, Betty,” she said. “Might wanna pick that up before dad gets up.” Betty smiled weakly at her and then gave Jughead an apologetic look before ducking under his arm and grabbing the wrinkled bag of sugar off of the breakfast table and putting it back where it belonged in the pantry. Jughead tipped his head back and shut his eyes tight.

_Fuck you, Polly._

“We’re going to the fish market today. I want to show Jug the docks and Cher told me that there would be super fresh tuna coming in that they’ll cut sashimi grade for me if I get there in time,” Betty said. “Do you want anything?”

“If they have seaweed salad I would _kill_ for some,” Polly said. “Otherwise maybe ask dad if he wants oysters and is up to do any shucking tonight.” Then she turned to Jughead and asked, “do you eat oysters?”

Maybe it was because he had spent the last five nights tangled in Betty’s limbs and breathing against her skin at any chance he got that made him say what he said next. Maybe it because he was tired of dancing in circles around her. _Maybe_ it was because Polly had just come up the stairs and ruined their almost moment. Or maybe it was because he wanted Betty to hear it.

“I eat everything.”

The look of sheer embarrassment on Betty’s face combined with the smug look on Polly’s face made it all worth it to Jughead. 

“Then I guess it’s settled then,” Polly said, the smirk never leaving her face, “Betty will get oysters and Jughead will eat her oysters.”

He let out a loud snort and Betty screamed.

“Oh my god, I am walking away now. Jughead we’re leaving in like two hours. Entertain yourself until then,” she yelled in a high pitched squeal and then booked it towards the stairs.

“That was mean,” Jughead said to Polly once they had heard the door close. “She’s already a fucking terrified mouse as it is, how am I supposed to get her to open back up to me now?” he complained.

“Oh relax, Jonesy. She’s not that fragile. She is just dealing with a lot. But if you don’t push hard enough, and I know this from watching her my whole life, if you don’t push hard enough she will just continue to run in the opposite direction. She’s not unbreakable, but she’s not very patient either.”

“She’s not patient?” Jughead said loudly. “How about me? I’ve been exerting all of the patience a person can just to see if she’ll let me in, but _noo,_ she just wants to strut around like she doesn’t know how I feel about her,” he whined.

“Well does she?” Polly asked.

“Does she what?” Jughead snapped.

“Does she know how you feel about her?”

Jughead thought about it. They slept in the same bed each night. He’s made it clear how he felt about her… guy situation. She knows how he feels about all other aspects of the fuck-shit she’s doing. _And,_ she knows that he doesn’t have feelings for Toni.

_Yeah but, have you said, “Betty. You’re my soulmate. You have been since I was three years old and I can’t live another day without you?_

_Well, no. Because that’s some simp shit and I’d say it differently._

“The internal argument I see playing across your face is all the confirmation I need that you haven’t told her how you feel about _her._ From what I can tell, all you’ve told her is how you feel about the things she’s doing. But let’s face it, weren’t you doing some crazy shit at seventeen that a cute twenty-year-old would frown against if given the chance?”

Jughead looked at her and thought about it. “Why haven’t you and I ever been friends. We grew up together too?” he asked.

“Oh Juggie,” Polly said, stepping past him so she could head back down the stairs, “you’ve always loved Betty more.” She headed down the stairs and when she reached the bottom she called, “don’t forget the oysters, Jug,” and disappeared into her room.

Jughead stayed upstairs and took a huge plate of pie and refilled his mug of coffee and went to sit on the porch that overlooked the huge field and the top of the outdoor shower.

Not that he was planning to stare at her or anything.

But if she happened to walk by in a towel, he wasn’t going to _not_ look. He was still a hormonal teenager at heart. 

“How the hell am I supposed to tell her exactly how I feel about her without the world as we know it blowing up around us?” he muttered to himself around a sip of coffee. 

After staring at the expanse of the field around him and finishing another cup of coffee, Jughead decided he would tell her tomorrow night, the night before he left. That way, if she rejected him he was leaving the next day. But if she didn’t reject him, he would have missed out on a whole other night that they could spend together.

The idea was so appealing that he almost tore down the rusting spiral staircase off the porch and down to the shower and poured his heart out. 

But the fear of rejection and an awkward last two days overpowered the impulse to tell her right then and there.

Jughead decided that he needed to shower and dress in somewhat warmer clothes if he was going to go hang out by the ocean with Betty for who knows how long. He realized the last time he was near the ocean with her, he was _in_ the ocean with Betty Cooper.

Naked.

Though he’d rather not repeat the experience of being naked in the ocean in November, he’d be happy to recreate the naked part with her. 

Standing up, he decided that he was going to go down the spiral staircase anyway, not wanting to pass by Alice and Hal. He gave them a wave through the glassdoor and headed down, carefully balancing his almost empty mug in one hand, and holding onto to the railing for dear life in the other.

He was three-quarters of the way down when he saw the steam. He heard a song that she had shown him earlier playing faintly through a Bluetooth speaker, and he could see her silhouette through the slats of the wooden door.

“Hey girl,” he announced just loud enough to hear.

“Jug!” she breathlessly exclaimed. “What the hell?”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I was coming down the stairs after finishing my coffee on the porch. I thought you would have already showered because well… you know,” he trailed off. “Anyway, if you wanna shut the door I can walk past.”

She made no movement but said, “actually if you want to sit on the steps and talk, that works too.”

Deciding to take Polly’s advice and be less careful Jughead responded with, “oh you’d like to talk now?” There was no malice or sarcasm in his tone, but there was definitely a bit of teasing. 

“Yeah,” she said strongly after a moment. “Yes. I do.”

Even though he couldn’t see, he smiled at her. “Okay Betty Cooper,” he said, “what do you want to talk about?”

“I want to talk about Pride and Prejudice,” she said with confidence.

“You– what?” he asked surprised. He figured she would at least _try_ to pick up where they left off during their conversation in the kitchen.

“Yes. You asked me earlier if it truly is universally acknowledged about rich men wanting wives, and I gave you a line about _all_ men wanting wives.”

“I remember,” he said lightly.

“Okay well I change my argument,” she said and Jughead could see her grab the shampoo off of the wooden shelf. “I think that rich men want a wife because if they don’t have one they will be cursed to a lifetime of women trying to steal their money. However, if these men find women to settle down with they won’t have women chasing them for money alone.”

Never one to turn down a good literary argument, Jughead sat up straighter. “But what if the woman only marries him for money? Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of your stance?”

“No it actually furthers it,” she said. “If men are worried about women only wanting to marry them for their money, they would work extra hard to find a woman, court her, and fall in love with her so their marriage isn’t a sham. Otherwise, he’s no better than the rich men who flaunt their money and spend it on mistresses and prostitutes.”

_Damn she’s good,_ he thought.

“Okay,” Jughead said slowly, gauging what to respond with. “But okay, Mr. Wickham and Kitty. Did he really love her? Or did he marry her to spite Darcy?”

Quick with a perfect response, Betty said, “of course he didn’t love her. But it wasn’t him who was trying to prove a point. Kitty wanted to be someone’s wife more than Mrs. Bennett wanted her daughters to be married. Kitty found the first military man that she had some kind of connection to, lifted her skirt, and promised that if they got married, Darcy would have to get involved and Mr. Wickham would get more money.”

“And tell me again why Darcy and Wickham hate each other so much?” Jughead asked. He already knew the answer as he had read the book the second she told him it was her favorite.

“Because Mr. Wickham and Darcy were raised together, but when Mr. Darcy Sr. died, Mr. Wickham wasn’t given any money. So he asked Mr. Darcy for money and when he said no, Mr. Wickham seduced Georgiana Darcy, Mr. Darcy’s– wait. Didn’t you read this book?” she asked and poked her soapy head out of the shower.

Jughead tried to hold back and laugh as he said, “yes I did. But I find it incredibly sexy when you talk about nineteenth-century literature.” He held her gaze for a moment and hoped that she wouldn’t run away. However, she broke their staring contest first and pulled herself back into the shower.

“As I was saying,” she continued, “Mr. Wickham broke off his engagement to Georgiana when he found out Mr. Darcy had made it so if she _did_ marry him that Mr. Wickham would never see a cent.”

Jughead fake, but actually, moaned in her direction. “Talk literature to me baby.”

“Ha-ha,” she said sarcastically. “As I was saying before though, in the nineteenth century, men who had money wanted women who loved them so they wouldn’t run off and steal their money, just inherit it when they died. Now? Now there are sites that are solely about men asking for the companionship of women so they can give them their money.”

“What do _you_ know about that?” he asked intrigued.

“I personally don’t have any experience with it. But Veronica wanted to do it for a while.”

“Even though she had money?”

“She wanted to be a sugar baby,” Betty said with a shrug.

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t ask. It was during a phase when she thought her dad might cut her off. Which, if anyone knows the relationship that Hiram and Veronica have, could probably never happen. She would have to do something _really_ bad in order to get cut off completely.”

Not wanting to press forward, Jughead decided to change the subject. “I’m gonna go get ready. How warm do I have to dress?” he asked.

“Uhh,” she said and brought one toned arm out of the shower to test the air against her bare skin. “I don’t know, as warm as you’ve been dressing. Maybe bring a pair of gloves though, if you have them. We sit on the doc tearing apart tuna with our bare hands and it can get kind of chilly?”

Jughead stood there mouth agape. “Who the hell are you, girl?” he asked. “Tearing pieces of tuna off with our bare hands and what? Just eating them?”

“No you silly city boy,” she laughed. “We dunk them into soy sauce and horseradish too.”

“And how often do you do this?” he asked as he rubbed his palm across his forehead. 

“Anytime Clifford has one of his guys text me saying they’re bringing stuff in?” she answered in a questioning tone.

“Ah, of course,” Jughead said with a smile. “Well I’m going to go get my _gloves_ on because apparently my...” but stopped short. 

_Were you about to call her your girlfriend?_

“My best friend,” he continued warily, “is a fucking fishmonger,” and walked away before she could respond.

“First you make a joke about eating everything and now you’ve almost called her your girlfriend? Tighten up, Jones,” he said to himself.

He walked swiftly over to his house and pulled open the front door. On the table was sixty-dollars in cash with a note that said, “for the oysters, - H,” in sloppy handwriting. He sighed and put the cash in his wallet, already imagining the argument with Betty about paying for the food and making a point to include the note so she could see the money really _was_ from her dad.

He walked into the bathroom and turned the water on high heat and then stepped back out. Looking down at his phone he realized that he didn’t charge it the night before as his collapsing into Betty’s bed wasn’t intentional. He plugged it in and saw that he had one missed text from Betty.

**Betty Cooper– 12:32pm:** hey if you don’t mind I’m gonna take your Jeep and fill the tank before we head out. The gas station is a five-minute drive from here so I’ll be back by the time you are done

_She’s so nice._

**Jughead Jones– 12:36pm:** you don’t have to do that

**Betty Cooper– 12:37pm:** i already have your keys

Jughead looked to where he had been keeping his keys on the counter by the front door and noticed that they had gone missing. A few moments later he heard the sound of his car pulling off and down the dirt and gravel driveway and decided that rather than acknowledging the crazy actions of the love of his life, he was going to practice getting used to them for when they could finally be together.

* * *

Sitting in the driver’s seat of Jughead’s Jeep, Betty made the decision that she was going to tell him exactly how she felt before he left, and she was going to do it tomorrow night. It was his last night at the compound and if he rejected her then that would be that. He would leave the following morning and Betty would go back to sobbing into Reggie’s mouth in heartbreak.

She was really hoping that he didn’t reject her. 

She sped down the quiet road and looked at the pale blue sky and wondered if it was going to snow. Being the twenty-sixth of November, it was very possible that they would get pounded with snow later today and tomorrow.

Which would make Betty’s “going to the movies with her friends” plan kind of fall to shit. 

When she reached the gas station she pulled up along the passenger’s side and cut the engine. A boy from her school, Trev, walked up to the car and was shocked when he saw her sitting in it. 

“Hi Trev,” Betty said kindly.

“Oh hey, Betty! Damn this is a nice car,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “It’s not mine though. I wish!”

“Oh,” he said confused. “Well, who’s car is it?”

“It’s my friend Jughead’s. He’s from out of town and has been staying with me since the beginning of break.”

“That’s cool,” he said and took her card. “How much?”

“Just fill it,” she said and pulled her phone from her pocket.

**Jughead Jones– 12:42pm** <3

_What the fuck does that mean?_

“Here you go, Betty,” Trev said cheerfully. “See you Monday!”

She waved back and him and turned the car on. It roared back to life and Betty saw Trev jump a bit. She smiled behind the tinted windows and then rolled hers down so she could wave to him as she drove back.

She put on a random playlist and started vibing to the beat of KAYTRANADA blasting through his speakers. If there was one thing that Jughead loved more than movies, it was music. And more than that, it was music that _sounded_ good. His dad had bought him this Jeep as a high school graduation present, but any modifications that he wanted to make to it, he had to pay for. 

So he saved and saved for this one speaker system that had to be installed at a specialty shop somewhere in DC and called Betty while he was waiting for it to be done.

“Girl I am sitting at a Starbucks across the street trying not to be weird and stare at the guys working but I can’t help it,” he said excitedly. 

“A Starbucks? Really Jones?” she joked. At the time she was sitting on the porch of the public library, not wanting to take the call inside. She had been doing work for a summer course she was taking and was happy to have an excuse to walk to the cart selling ice cream across the street.

As she stood up to walk over she asked him, “what kind of ice cream should I get?”

“What are your options?” Jughead instantly replied and Betty knew that she had gotten his attention off of the Jeep across the way for a moment.

“Uh let’s see,” she said as she walked up. “Oh wait, should I get a milkshake or an actual ice cream?”

“How hot is it outside?” he asked immediately.

“I’m in shorts and a t-shirt but not sweating.”

“Cone. Still cool enough for it not to immediately melt.”

“Perfect, thank you,” she said with a smile. “They have coffee oreo,” she continued knowing it was his favorite.

“Do it.” 

She stepped up to the vendor and asked, “may I please have a double scoop of coffee oreo on a waffle cone?”

The man smiled sweetly and nodded and Betty handed him the ten-dollar bill and waited for her change back. Once she had gotten her change, left him a tip, and walked away with her cone, she redirected the conversation back to Jughead.

“Tell me, why are you in a Starbucks spying on your Jeep again?” she asked.

He sighed and Betty could hear him rub his hands across his face. “I finally saved up enough money to buy that new sound system I was telling you about for the last four months. But in order to install it, I needed to take it to a shop and have them do it. But I am so worried they’re going to fully fuck up my car.”

Betty hummed around a lick of her cone and asked, “wanna FaceTime me so you can watch me eat this ice cream cone rather than watch your Jeep?”

Seconds later she pressed accept on the call.

The song changed to something more ambient and brought Betty back to the present. She was turning into her driveway and found Jughead leaving against her car. 

“What’s up, girl?” he asked and opened the door to the passenger seat. She smiled at him and squeezed his arm.

“You’re gonna let me drive Lousie?” she asked, addressing the Jeep by the name she had given it earlier that summer. 

“Don’t make me regret it,” he said sternly. He grabbed her phone and opened it up to Spotify. She put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Turning onto the main road Jughead rolled down the window and laughed.

“I’ve never sat in the passenger seat before,” he smiled. “This is so fun! I can pick the music without fear of dying!”

Betty rolled her eyes and chose to forget what he had just said. Instead, she chose to be brave and grab his hand. She interlaced her fingers in his and without hesitation, he lifted their intertwined hands and kissed the back of hers. He leaned over and turned the music up a few notches and tilted his head back. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand and Betty had to suddenly concentrate very hard on not crashing the car and getting them to the market safely. 

“So what’s the plan for when we get there?” Jughead asked.

“First we’ll go and buy the tuna and eat in on the dock. Then I was thinking we could just walk along the beach and then when it becomes unbearable cold we can head back, buy the oysters and head home.”

“Gotcha,” he nodded. “Are we going to be eating more thanksgiving leftovers tonight?”

“We actually don’t have many left. I was thinking of also just getting shrimp and making shrimp scampi and making it a seafood day.” 

Jughead groaned. “Just marry me now, why don’t you?”

“You have to ask first,” she replied cheekily.

Betty could feel him looking at her as she pulled into the parking lot of the market. She didn’t say anything, instead, removing her hand from his and walking over to the passenger side. She briefly saw him roll his eyes as she shut the door. They met towards the back of the car and Jughead wrapped her in a warm hug that she couldn’t refuse. The cold almost December wind whipped past her exposed head and she huddled closer to him. 

When she moved back she pulled her hoodie up and reached for his hand. He kissed the top of her head and they headed in towards the market.

Like a fucking couple.

“Hey Betty!” a woman yelled from behind the counter. “I got your fish saved back here.”

Betty dragged Jughead over to where Penny, the woman who ran the shop, was hiding behind her counter.

“Hi Ms. Penny,” Betty said with a smile. “I don’t know if you ever met–” but Penny interrupted them.

“Well I’ll be damned,” she said slowly. “You’re Gladys Jones’s kid.”

“Yeah,” Jughead slowly. “I’ve always been told I have her eyes and nose.”

“No, hon,” Penny said. “You have her whole damn face.”

Betty smiled at Jughead and held his hand even tighter. She knew it was bound to happen while they were out. That someone would notice who he was and what he was doing in Riverdale. She wondered if Penny was going to bring up his mother at all, ask about her, if she was here, how she was doing. But she didn’t. She changed the subject from Gladys to tuna real quick.

“Cliff told me you’d be by today so I placed this to the side,” she said and pulled a styrofoam container filled with ice to the top of the counter. “Are you all gonna be coming back for anything else?”

Betty eyed the cooler greedily. “Two pounds of shrimp and a two dozen oysters please,” she said with a smile.

“No problem, little miss,” Penny said with a laugh. She wrote down Betty’s order on a sticky note and placed it above her on a wall that Betty knew was reserved for family orders. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Betty saw Jughead start to pull out his wallet and quickly moved to stand in front of him and block him. 

“Is everything in there too?” she asked quickly, hand reaching behind her to try and grab Jughead’s hand from pulling his wallet. Instead, however, she grabbed something else. She felt him tense behind her and figured she’d deal with the consequences later. She grabbed the cooler off the counter and told Penny that they would be back in about an hour before pulling Jughead and his awkward situation out of the back door.

They stepped onto the back porch of the market and Betty forgot all about Jughead and his boner in the middle of the fish shop. The big fishing boats had just docked and they were standing in front of the “Thornhill,” a huge red fishing boat that Betty’s uncle named after the estate that he grew up in on the west part of the island. Next to it were the smaller, but somehow still gigantic, boats that people went out on a daily basis.

Choosing to ignore what had just happened, Betty decided to humor Jughead with some boating facts. “That big one? The one called ‘Thornhill?’ That’s Clifford’s boat specifically. He takes it out once every ten days for four days to catch the big ones like swordfish and tuna. The other smaller boats, go out daily. Fishermen usually leave around three-thirty in the morning and don’t come back until at least ten. I know that Cliff has a quota of how much you have to catch in a morning before coming back so if you have to go out far, you leave earlier,” Betty explained. 

“Have you ever been on one?” Jughead asked. 

“Loads of times,” she said with a smile. “Do you want to get on one? Just to walk around for a bit?”

“Won’t we get in trouble?” Jughead asked nervously. 

Betty laughed and walked in the direction of the “Thornhill.” A man waved at her and Bety tensed slightly knowing what was about to happen.

“Hey Fred!” Betty said loudly with a wave. She dragged Jughead over to the steps and ushered him forward. Fred grabbed Betty’s hand and lent Jughead his elbow to get them on board. He gave Betty a one-armed hug and then extended his hand to Jughead. Confused, Jughead shook it and looked at Betty for help.

“Hey there, Betty Cooper,” Fred said. “I see they already gave you your fish today.” He smiled and turned to Jughead. “Hey there, son. I’m Fred Andrews. Long-time employee of Clifford Blossom and father of Betty’s ex-boyfriend, Archie.”

Jughead’s jaw locked and Betty once against stepped to his side and grabbed his hand. She pressed their palms together and slid her fingers through his until they interlocked. Jughead relaxed a little and looked down at Betty. 

“Nice to meet you,” he said after a beat. “I’m Jughead Jones, sir. I’ve been staying with Betty during the holiday.” 

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” Fred said which Betty could tell surprised Jughead. “Her mom makes the _best_ Thanksgiving ever so I am sure it was a good one. Were you able to meet any on Betty’s other friends?”

Jughead was slightly speechless and Betty could tell he didn’t know how to respond so instead she jumped in. “Yes indeed. As you know the Blossoms were there and Sweet Pea and Veronica came this year too,” she said with a smile.

“Well that’s great,” Free said with sincerity. “I have to keep cleaning below deck but feel free to hang out above board and give me a holler if you want to show Jughead down below, you got it?” Betty nodded and dragged Jughead down the boat as she waved to Fred. 

They stood at the bow of the boat and looked out at the steel-grey water. Betty knew it was going to snow know. The ice caps on the waves moved away from the shore and the water was getting darker and darker even though the sky was still a pale greyish-white.

“It’s going to snow later,” Betty said.

“How are we going to talk about snow when I just met one of the kindest men on Earth and you want to tell me he’s Archie’s _dad?_ ”

Betty smiled and moved in to hug him. She put the cooler on the ground and wrapped her arms around his waist. She kissed the juncture between his chest and shoulder and smiled as his body slowly uncoiled. 

“No one knows why Archie is the way he is, alright? He just became really popular really fast and I think it fucked with his brain. Personally? Part of the reason I stayed with Archie was for Fred because as you can see, Fred is amazing. But then the first time I came down here after we broke up, Fred was working. He let me sit on the boat and stayed with me while I ate. When he saw that I was crying, he handed me a tissue and apologized to me for Archie’s behavior.”

Betty sighed and pulled back. Jughead was calmly looking out at the ocean and Betty followed her gut to press up onto her toes and kiss the underside of his jaw. He looked down and smiled at her. 

“Fred sounds like a good guy.”

“One of the best,” Betty smiled and grabbed his hand again. “C’mon. Let’s walk down the dock and then go sit somewhere and eat. I am _dying_ for you to try this.”

Jughead smiled and nodded and the two of them were off. He took the cooler from her and she headed in the direction of the beach. They walked huddled close together, shying away from the harsh, salty wind. As they walked, Betty pointed out all of the other businesses that were on the dock. There were two other smaller fish markets, an ice cream place that was only open in the summer as well as a snack bar that sold things like overpriced burgers and hot dogs to tourists. There was a tented enclosure that in the summer held water tables where people would put the creatures they caught in their nets. At the end of each night, someone from one of the closing businesses would empty the tables back into the sea and refill them with ocean water for when the children returned bright and early the next morning. 

They walked past a bunch of rusty lobster tanks that had been sitting in their spots since Betty was a child and Jughead’s eyes lit up. 

“There used to be a band that played here in the summer!” he said loudly. Betty looked at him with a confused look before a slow smile spread across her face. 

“You remember,” she said quietly. 

“Of course I remember,” he said. “There was a guy with a stand-up bass and it was the first time I had ever tried fried mac ‘n cheese and I think at some point some older kids got us to sneak onto a houseboat!”

“That would be about three summers combined into one,” Betty laughed and swung their hands. “But that would definitely be this spot.”

He laughed loudly and pulled Betty in. “Ah, Betts. Can we sit right here and eat and then walk down to the beach after?” 

Betty beamed at him. They could sit in the middle of the street and try not to get run over by cars as far as she was concerned. “Why? Trying to reminisce?” she teased.

“Sort of,” he said offhandedly and walked over to where one of the smaller boats from a different market was docked. “I have an idea for a screenplay based on this very exact moment and my brain is moving ten-thousand-million miles a nano-second, thank you!”

Betty giggles and let him be. She walked over to the tallest lobster tank and sat down. She placed the cooler next to her and folded her elbows on it. She watched in awe as Jughead stood perfectly still, hands shoved in his pockets, and stared out into the water in front of him. He barely moved a muscle, even when a particularly aggressive gust of cold wind would whip past them and Betty would cower deeper into her collar. 

After about ten minutes he walked directly towards her and when he reached her, placed his hands on her cheeks and whispered, “thank you.”

“Anything, Jug,” she said quietly and touched her forehead to his. “Are you ready to eat yet? Because I’ve been waiting for this moment since two weeks ago.”

“Yes, of course, fishmonger Betty. Lead the way in sashimi eating practices.” 

Betty opened the cooler and handed the lid to Jughead. Then she pulled the wrapped fish, the plastic knives, and the sauces out and put them on her lap. Then she took the lid back from Jughead and put it back on the container only upside down so it created an indent for the food to lay in. 

Jughead looked at her skeptically. “You’re telling me we have to rip pieces of that off with our hands?”

Betty giggled and reached into her pocket. “No silly,” she said and pulled out her pocket knife. “That’s what this is for.” Then she started expertly cutting off pieces of tuna and laying them on the waxy wrapping paper next to her. She put horseradish and soy sauce on a piece and went to hand it to Jughead but it slipped and landed on her finger at an awkward angle.

With no warning, Jughead bent down and literally slurped the piece of fish off of her finger while keeping eye-contact. 

Betty had to try not to moan.

Jughead didn’t.

Trying to keep her cool and act like it didn’t affect her, Betty calmly said, “that was the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

He picked up the next piece that she cut and put it in her mouth. She gently sucked the end of his finger while he was removing it from her mouth and said, “well having my junk grabbed in the middle of a fish market wasn’t something I thought was going to turn me on but here we are.”

Shrugging and continue to put together little pieces of their snack she asked, “is that the only thing turning you on?”

He leaned all the way over and placed his lips on her neck. He kissed up to her ear and whispered, “you sure as hell know it’s not.”

“So why didn’t you let me pay Penny at the market?” Jughead asked as they were preparing the shrimp for dinner. It was close to ten o’clock by the time they had gotten themselves ready to eat. After they ate the oysters and Jughead told everyone about going on the boat and meeting Penny and trying the tuna, Betty’s parents and Polly decided to just eat leftovers for dinner. Being the stubborn person she was, Betty decided she was still making the pasta for her and Jughead and that they would just eat a late dinner and watch movies in her room before going to sleep.

“Because _technically_ we own part of the market. And Penny would have given you the longest lecture known to man about how it’s bad manners or whatever party line she gives me any time I try to pay. She’s even stopped letting Sweet Pea pay at this point. Veronica’s never had to because Cheryl introduced her as our ‘sister’ when she first came in. Hey, can you turn off the pasta and drain it?”

Jughead nodded and did as he was told. He then presented her with a colander full of perfectly cooked noodles that she dumped into the simmering white wine sauce on the stove. She mixed them together for another few minutes before turning the stove off and grabbing two bowls from the cabinet. Jughead grabbed the cheese from the drawer in the fridge and they silently made their plates.

“But your dad gave me money,” Jughead and Betty sighed.

“Yeah, my dad likes to pretend he’s _not_ a Blossom because he doesn’t approve of how Clifford makes his money. Doesn’t think it’s ‘honest’ work. So he gave the money to you and not to me knowing that it would never work.”

“Is he going to know if I keep the cash?” Jughead asked.

“No. He won’t bring it up either. He gives money to Sweets all the time thinking that they still ask him to pay and he just pockets the money for weed later.”

“For a guy who is all too observant about bags of sugar, he sure feels a type of way about fish…”

Betty nodded and packed up the rest of the food and did the rest of the dishes before following Jughead downstairs. When they got to the door, Betty magically opened it without spilling any of the water or pasta that she was holding and they walked out to her room. 

“That’s a superpower,” Jughead said quietly. She found her desk in the dark and put all of the food down before plugging in the fairy lights that were strung against her windows. It turned the pitch-black room to one with a soft glow and Betty felt the same sense of calm as she always did when she was finally in her room for the night.

“What is?” she asked as she kicked off her socks and turned up the heat.

“Being able to walk through your house carrying so much, opening _and_ closing two doors, _and_ finding some way to not drop everything once you get into your dark room.”

“Oh,” she smiled. “It’s nothing, really. Just years and years of practice and mistakes.”

“Well I think it’s brilliant,” Jughead said and sat down with his food. They started to eat and resumed watching _The Titanic_ which was, though he would never admit it, one of his favorite movies. 

After they finished eating and Jughead had brought the food inside as they both went to brush their teeth, out of nowhere Betty said, “come with me.”

“What! What’s wrong,” Jughead said in an alarmed yet sleepy voice but followed her anyway. 

“It’s snowing!” she said with a soft smile.

“How the hell do you know? It’s dark outside, you literally can’t see a thing.”

“Jughead,” Betty said urgently, “it _is_ snowing.”

And sure enough, it was.

They walked over to the outdoor shower and Betty pulled a joint from her sweatshirt pocket and they smoked quickly as the snowflakes grew bigger and wetter by the second. Betty huddled against Jughead and he lifted her face to look at him. Betty knew that this was the moment where they were supposed to kiss, to have their moment, to live happily ever after. 

But the universe disagreed.

A huge gust of wind blew at that exact moment and physically knocked Betty backward. They ran inside and closed the door to her room quickly. Betty deadbolted the door behind them knowing that there was a very real possibility of her door being blown open without any warning if she didn’t. 

Jughead took off his boots and wet socks and pulled the covers down for her. Betty walked over to her drawer and pulled out a thick pair of socks to sleep in since she had been standing in the snow barefooted and knew that Jughead would kill her if she got into bed with icicle feet. 

She crawled in and scooted her body over until her side was flush with the wall. Jughead climbed in next to her and rolled her to her side so he could press his body along her back. 

“Betty?” he whispered after a few minutes. Her eyelids had grown heavy and thick and the effect of the cold and the hot earthy smoke was getting to her brain.

“Mmm,” she answered, trying to open her eyes and turn to face him.

“It’s gonna suck on Monday, isn’t it?”

Betty nodded. “Monday is going to be the worst day of my life.”

“More like Monday night,” Jughead replied.

“Yeah,” Betty nodded and pushed herself farther against him. “That’s the part I don’t want to think about.”

He was silent again and Betty had thought he had fallen asleep but after a few minutes he said, “do you want to talk about it tonight or tomorrow?”

“Today already is tomorrow,” Betty mumbled. “So tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked!!  
> Thanks for all of your love and patience and encouragement with this story! I am so happy you all love and I love YOU!
> 
> Come tumble with me! @blackberry-beee
> 
> Til the next update!
> 
> Xx  
> Bb


	8. saucy hands

**23:45**

“I officially step off the island in eight hours,” Jughead sighed and tipped his head back against Betty’s bed. 

“Technically you drive off the island in eight hours,” Betty corrected him and tilted her head to the side so she could face him. They were sitting on the floor and resting their heads against the bed so they could look at the hundreds of glowing stars on Betty’s ceiling.

Jughead turned his head towards her and said, “I think I should pack and get ready to go. I have to be there at seven-forty-five tomorrow and the idea of waking up that early and getting on the road is the worst thing that I could possibly imagine.” 

Except it wasn’t. The worst thing that he could imagine was leaving Betty and not knowing how she felt. Leaving and never speaking again because he ruined their friendship. Or even worse, leaving knowing that she loved him too but living hundreds of miles away.

He stood up and brought her to her feet. They were standing closer than they ever had. He was still holding her hands and said the only thing he could think of. 

“I leave in eight hours.”

“I know,” she said.

“I don’t know that I want to,” he replied.

“I know,” she said again. 

“I like you,” he added with a steady ferocity.

“I know.”

Jughead somehow pulled her closer and whispered, “you know?” 

She nodded and bit her lip, looking up at him. 

They stepped closer and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist and brought the other up and into her flowing hair. She inched her cold hands against the bare skin of his abdomen and he didn’t even flinch. 

“You know,” he said again. 

“I uh,” she started and lazily pointed her fingers at his chest, “I like you too.”

It was all either of them needed.

**(JPOV) – 09:30**

He would be gone in less than twenty-four hours. In his car, on the boat, on the road back to the monotonous day to day life of a film major who was just scraping by.

Back to talking to Betty on the phone rather than in person. Back to falling asleep hundreds of miles away from the love of his life that didn’t even know how he really felt about her. 

He rolled over and saw Betty laying on her back, one arm thrown over her head and the other holding Jughead’s arm under the covers.

He was supposed to go back to a twin XL after this? 

He resigned to the fact that it was only going to be for a week or so before he got to go back to New York for the month-long break he had between the first and second semesters. 

Maybe he could come back to the compound and see Betty again. 

Maybe he could pick her up from Penn Station with a cheesy sign that read “Betty Cooper, soul mate and love of Jughead’s life.”

Maybe that would get it though her stubborn fucking head. 

He stroked her hair and tried not to panic. He didn’t want to spend the last day that they had together before it all went to shit, regardless of what happened, in a state of panic. He wondered when she was going to wake up. He wanted to spend every last waking moment and second with this girl in his arms. 

Almost at that exact moment, Betty woke up. She blinked against the light that came flowing through the tattered curtain and squinted as they adjusted to the new sensation. Jughead didn’t stop stroking her hair as she woke and she turned to smile sleepily at him before rolling over and grabbing her phone off of the desk. 

Jughead grabbed his own and pretended to be watching something interesting but was just watching the way she interacted with the world when she was first waking up. 

_You’re kind of creepy, Jughead,_ he thought to himself.

“Good morning sleeping beauty,” Jughead said quietly and brushed another strand of hair behind her ear.

“That’s the creepiest one though,” Betty said, giving him absolutely zero context. 

“Um, what?”

“Sleeping Beauty. The actual story. Beautiful girl makes older woman jealous because of her looks so she puts her to sleep until her soulmate comes along? What if just a bunch of different men came along and mouth-fucked her until her soulmate came? I mean, who even says that soulmates are a real thing anyway?”

“Oh wow you’re super aggressive this morning, aren’t you sunshine,” he said in an impressed and sarcastic tone. 

_Doesn’t believe in soulmates. Adding that to the ever-growing list of things I didn’t know about Elizabeth Cooper._

“Sorry,” she said. “I had one of those dreams where I am just running around a city over and over and turning corners in places I’ve never been to.”

“Ah,” Jughead said, knowing the dream. But Betty still wasn’t looking at him, instead she was still staring at the ceiling. Her eyes were red-rimmed and it wasn’t just from sleep.

“How long before you were able to fall back asleep?” he asked as he grabbed her hand. He slid himself closer to her and she pressed her temple to his shoulder.

Sighing she asked, “what time is it?”

Jughead glanced at the clock on his phone and replied, “nine-thirty.”

“So around six-fifteen,” she answered. 

“I woke up at six, Betty,” Jughead said, voice rising. “Why didn’t you…”

“Why didn’t I let you know then that I had been awake the whole night?”

Jughead sighed again and nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

Betty surprised him by snuggling deeper into his side and closing her eyes again. Jughead wanted to hold onto this moment for the rest of… forever. Make time stop so he could stay half-awake and pressed close to Betty Cooper for the rest of forever. 

But he was leaving.

She was leaving too, he countered with himself. Just a different type of leaving. Two weeks in a country where he couldn’t have constant communication with her. Two weeks of hoping a tiger didn’t eat her or she was harmed by a jellyfish, though he knew tigers didn’t live in Costa Rica. Two weeks of her being in another country with her abusive ex-boyfriend where he wasn’t able to protect and defend her from the evils of Archie Andrews. 

He was pulled out of his mild (intense) panic about Betty leaving by the sound of her snoring against his side. He sunk down into the pillows so he could shift her weight onto his chest rather than his ribs. 

_What are we going to now, Betty Cooper?_

Her phone pinged next to him and he glanced at it, seeing a text from Sweet Pea asking if they could meet them for breakfast at Pop’s. 

Jughead opened her phone and grabbed Sweet Pea’s contact and put it into his own.

**Jughead Jones – 9:42am:** hey it’s jughead. i grabbed your contact from betty. she’s still sleeping but when she wakes up we can come meet you.

**Sweet Pea – 9:47am** did she have a classic betty night?

Jughead smiled as he typed out his response. 

**Jughead Jones – 9:51am:** you bet she did.

**Sweet Pea – 9:55am** what like fall asleep around six?

Jughead smiled again at the predictability of Betty’s sleep habits.

**Jughead Jones – 9:57am:** six fifteen

He locked his phone after agreeing that they would meet for a late brunch, which if he knew anything about Betty’s friends, meant around one-o’clock.

He closed his eyes for a bit and woke again around twelve when Betty climbed back in bed. Surprised him by laying back down on top of him and Jughead instinctually wrapped his arms around her middle and held her there for as long as she would let him.

Which was only about ten minutes, but it was better than nothing. 

“I need to take a shower before we go to Pop’s,” Betty said. Jughead pressed small kisses to her cheek and neck and willed his body to cooperate as every shiver that went down Betty’s spine went straight to his core. 

“I could join you,” he said jokingly. He knew that she was never going to go for a co-shower in the end of November where there wasn’t even hot water space to keep one warm for longer than a few moments.

“You could,” she said after a moment. 

Jughead’s body responded to that instinctually. He held himself as still as possible and hoping she didn’t say anything, much less, do anything about the fact that his dick was digging hard against her hips and he still had her trapped against him.

She wiggled her hips a bit and Jughead had to let her go, not wanting to take things any further because they just…

Weren’t there yet.

“I think I should probably pass on the shower,” Jughead said, clearing his throat. 

Betty nodded and Jughead couldn’t help but notice that hit of disappointment that lingered in her eyes. 

“Betty,” he whispered and pulled her close. He laid on his back but made sure her back was facing him so she couldn’t see him. 

“The first time I kiss you, the first time I,” he took a moment to gather his thoughts, “ _touch_ you, is not going to be in an outdoor shower in the end of November.” He felt her shiver again and nod. 

“Now I’m going to get up and go to the bathroom because I have a bit of a situation that I need to deal with,” he continued. “But you are going to take a shower outside _because you’re fucking insane,_ and I’ll take one inside and we will go from there.”

She nodded again and Jughead stayed still for another moment before taking his arm out from beneath her and throwing his sweatshirt on over his threadbare tee. 

He had his hand on the doorknob when Betty said, “Sweet Pea wants us to go see a movie with him tonight at the film center.”

Jughead smiled and faced her. “Do I get to pull a cheesy move and wrap my arm around the back of your chair?”

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She too grabbed a sweatshirt and threw it over her own tee and Jughead smiled at the creamy tops of her thighs. She walked up to him and he placed his hands on her hips. She stood on her toes and whispered. 

“No.”

**(BPOV) – 13:47**

He had his hand on the small of her back and let it drift closer to her ass as they walked into Pop’s. She swung her keychain around her finger and remembered how much shit Jughead gave her about having a bottle of Sriracha attached to her keys. 

But she didn’t care. 

It came in handy one too many times. 

She waved at Sweet Pea and Veronica and walked up to where Cheryl was standing in line. She hugged her cousin and smiled when she hugged Jughead. As soon as they broke apart, Jughead placed himself back at Betty’s side and this time leaned his elbow on her shoulder.

Apparently they were keeping constant contact today. 

Not that she minded. In eighteen hours he would be getting in his car, driving up onto the ramp of the ferry, and plunging back into his college life, leaving Betty and their week of confusing pants feelings in the dust. 

She wondered if she could see him again when she got back from Costa Rica. 

Maybe she could go to New York and meet him when she got off of the train and have a huge bag of Pop’s treats and let him lick the sticky sugar from her fingers when they sat in his underwater room. 

Maybe he could come back to the compound for Christmas and bring his mom or dad and Betty could be reintroduced to his grandmother and aunt. 

Maybe he would pull away when he got back to D.C. and saw how wildly fucked up she really was.

She decided not to think about that as Cheryl stood up and handed her a strong vanilla latte and a pecan sticky bun and Betty, still on her feet, moaned into the sticky bun and went crosseyed as she realized there was a whole pecan stuck to her nose. 

“Not it,” Sweet Pea mumbled around his lemon bar. Jughead, who had walked over to the counter to place their order, came back over and without any hesitation took the pecan off of Betty’s nose and popped it into his own mouth. 

The whole table sat there and looked at him in shock. He smiled a sly smile and patted the seat next to him. Betty was still dazed but decided not to fight the aforementioned pants feelings and go sit next to him. He immediately put the palm of his hand against her inner thigh and drew circles with his thumb.

Betty took a gulp of her scalding latte and felt the first few layers of her tongue come off with it. Cheryl must have seen this action because she snorted into her own cup. Veronica shot them both a quizzical look before shaking her head and deciding that it wasn’t worth it. 

“So what movie are we seeing tonight, Pea?” Betty asked. She kept her eyes on her sticky bun and latte and took deep, measured breaths as Jughead showed no signs of stopping. 

“Trolls!” Sweet Pea yelled. Everyone in the bakery turned to look at them and Betty snapped her head up, doing the same. 

“Sweet Pea that movie came out almost a month ago,” Cheryl groaned. 

“November fourth, actually,” he countered. “And it will be _fun!_ Justin Timberlake in troll form? Betty’s dream come true!”

She had just put her head back down when he mentioned the two things that Betty was pretty sure she’d kill him for later.

Her childhood obsessions with the original troll dolls, and Justin Timberlake. 

“Oh yeah,” Jughead said as if he was having a revelation. “Betty was _obsessed_ with that one album and played it on repeat one summer. It took our mom’s the longest time to realize that a five-year-old shouldn’t be screaming, ‘I’m bringing sexy back,’ at every possible opportunity.”

Betty groaned and hid her head in her hands. _She_ hadn’t even remembered that moment until it had been brought up. How could Jughead have held onto that memory?

Unless he had feelings for her that were way deeper than the hints he was dropping at each possible opening. 

It probably wasn’t that.

“If we go see Trolls, I do not want to be responsible for getting Sweet Pea to come down from the inevitable sugar high–”

“And mary jane high,” Cheryl interrupted.

“Yes and the high of the devil’s lettuce after watching a kids movie with singing, trippy–“

“Trolls?” Jughead asked sarcastically and Betty whacked him upside the head. He caught her hand on the way down and held it up to his chin. It was innocent to those looking at what was happening _above_ the table, but had they seen the way that he was now using his open palm to rub all over Betty’s thighs, they might have understood why she jumped up to just the bathroom so quickly. 

She tripped over her feet as she grabbed the key from Ethel and felt her face grow hot as she could get the door to open and only Jughead would be able to see her fumbling with such a simple task. 

When she finally was able to open the door she flew in and slammed it shut behind her, no doubt signaling that she was in there for a very specific reason. 

That reason was to cry. She was so overwhelmed by her feelings for him. She knew she was hopelessly in love. She knew that there was absolutely no one else for her that existed in the whole universe. She knew that if she believed in soulmates that he would be hers because she knew a part of his soul existed in her own. 

She sank to a squat, not daring to actually sit on the floors of the Pop’s bathroom, and tried to rationalize what would happen next. She could put back up all of her Betty walls and pass out smiles that didn’t meet her eyes and prepare for the worst heartbreak of her life. More damaging than any breakup could ever be. 

She could go out there and confront him with her feelings and hope that he wrapped his arms around her and tore down the main street until they got to his Jeep and addressed the pants feelings that had been skirting around for a week.

But logically, she knew what would happen. She would stand up on the count of ten, wipe her eyes, and apply a new layer of mascara. She would rehearse her breaths and be ready and willing for when his arms and hands were on hers. 

And then, after they had sat through a children's movie after they would inevitably go get wings from a secret alehouse that Betty had also been hiding after they had eaten those on the drive back, Betty would see how much she could get out of Jughead when it came to his feelings. 

But by the end of the night, before midnight hit and it was Jughead’s “official” last day, Betty would tell him everything and make her move and pray to whatever fucking god that was out there to let her down easy.

She opened the door to the bathroom and Jughead was already standing there. He had a smirk splattered across his face but it didn’t meet his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked and grabbed her hands. Confused, she looked down and saw that he had flipped her palms over to make sure that she hadn’t slipped back into the bad habit she had of piercing the skin with her nails. 

When he found nothing, he cupped Betty’s face and raised an eyebrow.

“I was overwhelmed with excitement of seeing Justin Timberlake in Troll form that I had to rush to the bathroom and bawl my eyes out,” she said with a hint of sass. She gently pushed past him and they walked out to the car. Jughead threw his arm up in an attempt of a half-assed wave to Ethel who was desperate for attention and they exited the cozy building and out into the cold November air. 

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked and spun towards him. He caught her arm quickly as she started to fall.

Pulling her to him he said, “they went to Veronica’s. We are to meet them there as the movie starts around six and instead of going back to separate places, we’re supposed to hang out with them,” Jughead said with a tone and expression that Betty couldn’t quite understand. 

“Interesting,” Betty said. “Do you think they would get mad if you just conveniently forgot to tell me this and instead we went back to the compound for a bit and watch _New Girl_ in bed and pretend that I didn’t cry over Justin Timberlake in the bathroom?” she teased. 

Jughead smiled and threw his arm over her shoulders, leading her back to the car. “Only if you tell me what you were really crying about.”

Betty, never one to be out-stubborned retorted with, “well okay then. We are heading to V’s house.” 

She skipped ahead of him and turned on her heel about three yards away, spinning to look at him. 

“Girl,” he groaned like a child and stomped over to her. She smiled and ducked her head into his chest as he wrapped her in a hug. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

She giggled and stepped away from him saying, “but you love it.”

She continued to walk a few steps in front of him, hands in her pockets to hide them from the cold and barely missed him breathe a “yes, I really fucking do,” into the November wind. 

**(JPOV) – 18:43**

Jughead wasn’t sure why he was so excited to watch a kids movie with a bunch of teenagers that he didn’t know very well, but his stomach fluttered and he couldn’t stop fidgeting. 

“Do you need to go pee, Jug?” Cheryl asked. She was chewing a piece of licorice and making it way sexier than it needed to be. 

She sauntered over to him and offered the bag to him. He whispered thanks and let his eyes wander to where Betty and Veronica were coming out of the bathroom together. He smiled softly and didn’t realize he was playing with the candy in his hands when Cheryl obstructed his view. 

“Cheryl,” he groaned. “What the fuck are you doing.”

“Jones if you don’t tell her how you feel or fuck her until she understands it, I will. And I’m her actual cousin. Not her quasi ‘our parents once had an affair and now no one talks to each other,’ cousins,” Cheryl said. “So it would be super weird.”

Jughead smiled and nodded. “I’m gonna tell her. It may not be until the very last second, but I am going to tell her. She deserves to know, and who knows, if she has the same feelings then we’ll go from there. But if she–”

“If she doesn’t have the same feelings?” Sweet Pea interrupted unapologetically. “Yo if I could tell you the things she says about you when we talk on the phone you wouldn’t even believe it. That girl would move mountains for you. She's not strong enough, so it wouldn’t work very well. But she would.”

“What wouldn’t work very well?” Betty asked, coming up to them and wrapping her arm through Sweet Pea’s. 

“Sneaking weed into the back of the movie theater so we could be fucking _wrecked_ by the time Justin starts singing,” Jughead said quickly. He shot a few death glares over the top of Betty’s perfect ponytail which signaled to them all that they needed to shut up. 

Thankfully they did.

And in an even more relieving moment, it was time for them to slowly move into the child packed movie theater and climb the steps to the back row. Jughead placed his hands on Betty’s waist and each time they had to stop he pulled her back against his chest and kissed the soft spot under her ear.

He no longer gave a single fuck.

She didn’t complain, not even once, so it seemed as though she too was out of fucks to give.

They finally made their way to the back where their seats were and sat down. Betty was sitting in between Sweet Pea and Jughead, and Sweet Pea was next to Veronica. Cheryl sat next to the brunette making it so she and Jughead acted as the capping off point of their little group.

The lights dimmed and Jughead saw Sweet Pea’s excitement run through his body and couldn’t help but feel the infectious excitement flutter through Betty and onto him. 

They spent way too much time giggling, dancing, and laughing and the screen and poking fun of Betty’s Justin Timberlake crush that everyone already knew about. 

At one point, at the high of the conflict, Betty suddenly stood up, pushing past Jughead and walking down the stairs. Jughead looked at Sweet Pea who raised an eyebrow and they all turned to look at one another.

“Should I–” Jughead started to ask but Cheryl shook her head and made it a point to wave her hand back to the movie. 

He hadn’t been paying attention at all when Betty came back. She smiled at him and without thinking, he opened his arm to her as she sat down. She snuggled into his side and tipped her chin up at him.

“I’ll tell you in the car,” she whispered and placed an open-mouthed kiss to his jaw. 

She also clearly did not give a fuck. 

“Your hot sauce bottle exploded all over you and that’s why you left the theater?” Jughead asked as he choked on his chicken wing. They had hugged their friends goodbye in the parking lot and Jughead made promises that he hoped he could keep about coming back soon. He couldn’t catch Betty’s eye as he made such promises and wondered what could have happened in the time that she left the theater in such a rush. 

They left the parking lot together, still not saying anything about what had happened, and Jughead making the executive decision that if she didn’t want to tell him, he wouldn’t ask.

They got to his car and he opened the door for her and though he didn’t need to, helped her in by placing his arm on the small of her back. He didn’t need to, the car wasn’t actually that far off of the ground.

But actually, he did need to. 

Betty directed him in the direction of her favorite spot to get snack food at late hours and Jughead drove them there, laughing as she sang and frowning as she continued to avoid his question about why she just randomly got up and left. 

But when she finally told him, it was even better than he had imagined. 

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” she screamed with mock horror. “I was fidgeting with the keychain and it exploded all over me. I didn’t think you noticed my saucy hands but surely didn’t want you to see them and follow me and the pitter-patter of Sriracha down the steps of the theater!” 

“God you’re so fucking adorable,” he moaned around his wing and decided to ignore the blush that he could faintly see in the darkness of his car. 

They stayed silent for the rest of the car ride and when they pulled back into the compound, Jughead ran around the front of the Jeep to open her door. 

They walked back to her house, going halfway up the stairs to yell a haphazard goodnight and a promise to come in and say good-bye tomorrow morning before Jughead headed out. 

Goodbye. 

Not something that either of them wanted to deal with. 

And so they didn’t. They walked back into Betty’s room and without thinking, without saying any words, turned off all but one strand of fairy lights and got into bed. It was only nine-forty-five and yet somehow Jughead felt like there just wasn’t enough time. There were less than twelve hours left of his time at the compound and if he didn’t act quickly, that time would be up and he would be gone and she would be in another country with a boy she once loved.

He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. 

Betty grabbed her computer and placed it on the music stand at the end of her bed. She once told him that she would never put a T.V. in her room because it would be too bright and she couldn’t see the stars, but that she would place her computer on a music stand to try and replicate the idea. 

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” he asked suddenly, causing her to shift and place her head on her head and look up at him.

“Why?”

“Well I was talking with one of the kids from my film class about what profession they would most want their wife to have,” he said.

“That’s sexist,” Betty grumbled. 

“Absolutely. But it made me realize that I didn’t know what _you_ wanted to be when you grew up. Like, tell me your hopes and dreams girl.” 

Betty was quiet for a moment and then placed her head back on his chest. He stroked her hair from where it parted in the center and down her back. They once again stayed like that for a while. 

But she never answered him and he didn’t press on. 

After more episodes of _New Girl_ than he could count, he looked at the time and realized it was eleven-forty-five. At some point, they had moved so they were sitting on the floor and passing the joint between them. 

Betty had a thing about ash on the bed.

“I officially step off the island in eight hours,” Jughead sighed and tipped his head back against Betty’s bed. 

“Technically you drive and then float off the island in eight hours,” Betty corrected him and tilted her head to the side so she could face him. They were sitting on the floor and resting their heads against the bed so they could look at the hundreds of glowing stars on Betty’s ceiling.

Jughead turned his head towards her and said, “I think I should pack and get ready to go. I have to be there at seven-forty-five tomorrow and the idea of waking up that early and getting on the road is the worst thing that I could possibly imagine.” 

Except it wasn’t. The worst thing that he could imagine was leaving Betty and not knowing how she felt. Leaving and never speaking again because he ruined their friendship. Or even worse, leaving knowing that she loved him too but living hundreds of miles away.

He stood up and brought her to her feet. They were standing closer than they ever had. He was still holding her hands and said the only thing he could think of. 

“I leave in eight hours.”

“I know,” she said.

“I don’t know that I want to,” he replied.

“I know,” she said again. 

“I like you,” he added with a steady ferocity.

“I know.”

Jughead somehow pulled her even closer and whispered, “you know?” 

She nodded and bit her lip, looking up at him. 

They stepped closer and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist and brought the other up and into her flowing hair. She inched her cold hands against the bare skin of his abdomen and he didn’t even flinch. 

“You know,” he said again. 

“I uh,” she started and lazily pointed her fingers at his chest, “I like you too.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and she whispered, “is this… I mean… are you sur–” But she didn’t get a chance to finish. 

He cut her insecurities off with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I truly hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I'm really excited to continue writing this one, so I hope you liked it too!
> 
> Come tumble with me if you'd like @blackberry-beee
> 
> xx  
> BB


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